The Boomerang Principle
by Neuropsych
Summary: Another Campers story... tell me what you think!
1. Chapter 1

**The Boomerang Principal**

_Author's Note: So! This is the newest Campers story. It's going to take place just after Circles, just so you're all on the same page that I am. We'll see where it goes, huh?_

_Disclaimer: I'm not making any money off this, nor do I claim any characters that I didn't create. So there!_

OOOOOOOOOO

"You know, there should be a _rule_ about just how much your mother in law is supposed to see of you…"

Janet Fraiser smiled, and ignored the complaint.

"Take your shirt off, Ian. And _don't_ say what you're going to say, or I'm going to find a needle…"

Since he'd had it on the tip of his tongue to say something that was probably a little out of line – but which would have been amusing, to himself, at least - Colonel Ian Brooks changed his tactics.

"Beckett _could_ have done this…" he grumbled as he stripped off his shirt.

"Beckett isn't here, and your physical is due."

"It could have waited."

"What if you need to go offworld?"

"Technically, I _am_ offworld."

He was assigned to _Atlantis_, after all. Earth wasn't home just then. He was just there because Cassie wanted a chance to spend time with her mother – and the boys needed a chance to see both sets of grandparents – not just _his_ mom and dad.

"Stop complaining," she said, taking his temperature – mainly because the thermometer in his mouth kept him from talking. "I have to do McKay next."

If anyone should be whining, it should be _her_, right?

OOOOOOOOOO

"Seriously, General Hunt, you need to understand just how easily someone could come in here and wipe out the SGC – just like _that_…"

Rodney McKay snapped his fingers, drawing a scowl from Major General Alan Hunt – who had pretty much been scowling for the past ten minutes.

"The shield is working fine, Doctor McKay. Not only have our own people been in here to check it out, but Colonel Brooks checked it yesterday."

"Well, he's a _grunt_. What does _he_ know?"

"He built it, didn't he?"

McKay rolled his eyes.

"With help from Shawn Adams. And _me_."

"I'm not going to authorize another shutdown of the gate systems just so you can-"

Alarms suddenly blared all around them, interrupting him, and Hunt turned to look out the window of his office, which overlooked the embarkation room. The Stargate was dialing in.

"_Unscheduled offworld activation!"_ a voice said over the base's loudspeakers. "_Repeat; unscheduled offworld activation. General Hunt to the control room."_

Hunt had already left his office, heading through the briefing room and towards the stairs. McKay looked after him, stunned by how quickly he'd reacted – which always impressed him even though he'd never had admitted it to _anyone_ in the military – and slightly annoyed that he hadn't been able to finish his conversation without interruption.

Oh well, time enough to convince him later. McKay was very good at convincing people to do things. With that pleasant thought in mind, he headed out of the office as well, making his way much more slowly to the control room to see what was going on.

OOOOOOOOO

"Who is it, Lieutenant?"

The woman in front of the dialing computer shrugged, looking up at her commanding officer.

"No IDC, sir. No code of any kind."

"Is it the Tok'ra?" one of the younger technicians asked, looking over her shoulder, curiously – until Hunt scowled at him and he backed off just a little.

"No idea."

Hunt wasn't one for uncertainty – a trait that was made even easier with the hardware that his Stargate carried.

"Raise the shield, open the iris."

Whoever was coming in would make it through the iris – which would keep them from being immediately killed. A good thing if it happened to be an ally. However, should the newcomer be someone – or several someones – that weren't on the invited list to the SGC, then they'd be cut off from the personnel of the base by the shield, which had been installed only the year before, replacing an older model of one that Shawn Adams had built soon after he'd graduated from the Air Force Academy. This one was more powerful and capable of dealing with intruders without the Marines guarding the base being forced to lower the shield to fight back. Ian Brooks had designed it using Ancient technology and it worked like a charm.

The iris opened, and if you knew what to look for you could see the faint glimmer of light that the powerful shield produced. It spanned most of the embarkation room, but could be compressed at a command to the computer.

"What's going on?"

Major Andrew Stephens appeared out of nowhere – no big surprise to Hunt or the others in the room.

"We're not sure, yet, Major."

Even as he spoke, however, a lone form came running through the gate. A small form that obviously hadn't been to the SGC before, because he stumbled when he hit the ramp and ended up rolling to the bottom, where he sprawled with a pain-filled grunt. The Stargate disengaged behind him, telling them he was alone.

"_Medical team to the embarkation room!"_

Hunt was already heading for the door, followed by Andrew and several others. By the time he made it into the embarkation room itself, the small form had tried to right itself, and was now on his knees, clearly in pain. He was browned-haired, with gray eyes and a nasty burn on his face and what was undoubtedly a broken arm.

And he was very young.

"Please!" he shouted, shrilly. "You have to _help_ me!"

Hunt motioned for the shield to be lowered as he moved over to the boy – who couldn't have been ten. He was shocked by the crazy British accent the boy had – never had he heard that coming out of the mouth of anyone coming from another planet. And he was certain the kid wasn't one of their own.

"Who are you?"

The boy ignored his question, tears streaking his dirty face. He was clearly running only on adrenaline, because he was already starting to teeter a little, and he was determined to get his own demands answered.

"I need to find Ian Brooks! _Please_, you have to help…"

Andrew frowned, but Hunt tried again.

"Who are you?"

"Ian Brooks."

It was the last thing he said, though, because he collapsed and would have fallen if not for Hunt reaching out and catching him before he could do any more damage to his already battered frame.

"Get Colonel Brooks up here."


	2. 02

It turned out to be unnecessary to find Ian. He came thundering into the embarkation room with Fraiser's medical team, and stopped by Andrew, who was standing near at hand but not getting in the way.

"Who's that?" he asked as he watched Fraiser kneel down beside Hunt.

"We're not sure," Andrew answered. "He's looking for you, though."

Ian frowned.

"Me? You sure?"

"Asked for you by name."

"I don't know him."

Before Andrew could reply, Fraiser turned from her examination.

"Ian!"

It was a measure that Ian had finally managed to grow up when he didn't even scowl as he knelt down beside the boy as well. He knew what Janet wanted, of course. It was hardly the first time she'd ever taken advantage of his abilities and turned him into a walking diagnostic machine.

He placed his hand on the boy's for a moment.

"Burns, broken arm and ribs, torn liver…"

Fraiser nodded; aside from the liver, she'd already seen the rest.

"Can you take care of it?"

"Sure. Here?"

Janet looked over at Hunt, who nodded.

"I want to know who he is and where he came from."

Ian nodded and turned back to Fraiser.

"You need to set his arm so I can heal it."

He couldn't straighten it himself, after all, and she was a lot more experienced at setting bones.

Janet nodded and quickly pulled the bones apart enough to reset them in the proper position, then looked at Ian to make sure they were where they needed to be. Normally she'd take an x-ray, but Ian was just as good.

Ian nodded, and took the boy's hand again.

Less than a minute later, the boy's eyes opened and he sat up and looked around, confused.

"Easy, son…" Hunt said, hoping the kid wasn't going to go into hysterics.

The boy turned to him.

"I need to find Ian Brooks."

"You did," Ian said, speaking up.

The boy turned to him so quickly that Fraiser was surprised he didn't break his neck – or at least sprain it. His eyes widened as he took in the man kneeling beside him, and then he looked down at his arm, moving it and flexing it for a moment before looking up again.

"You're Ian Brooks!"

"Yes. But who-"

"You must help! My mother is in great danger! She's been hurt and-"

Ian held up his hand to stop him, frowning at the boy's accent. He'd definitely heard that before, and with that in mind it was easier to recognize the clothing he was wearing. Ian had never seen the boy before, but he had a good idea where he was from.

"Who are you?"

"Ian Brooks. Son of Joshua and-"

"Sabrina?"

The boy – Ian – nodded, his eyes even wider than before.

"Yes!"

"How did you know that, Ian?" Andrew asked.

"I know where he's from…" Ian replied, looking at Hunt.

"Where?"

"You have to help me," Ian – the _little_ Ian – interrupted. "My mother-"

"P3X-95-A. It's a planet that we-"

"Why is he named after you?" Andrew asked, curiously.

"Because he saved my mother's life," the boy answered before Ian could speak. "My father promised that if she had a baby, they'd name it after him to honor what he did. I am their first born."

"What's happened?" Janet asked him, reacting to the boy's panicked state. "Why are you here?"

"I need help. The strangers are everywhere and they've destroyed-"

"Wait a minute," Ian interrupted. "What strangers?"

"The ones who came looking for the stones." His expression tightened, reminding all of them that he was a little boy in a strange place. "They said they were traders, but they didn't have anything in their packs, and were only interested in rocks… when they didn't find what they were looking for, they started trying to make people tell them where they were, but no one knows-"

"Which stones?" Ian asked. "The ones from the cave?"

The boy shook his head, a tear sliding down his dirty face.

"I don't know. No one knows. They just-" he choked a moment. "They just started hurting people."

"Your mom and dad?" Ian asked.

"I think so. They've vanished and I can't find them anywhere. I don't know-"

"You need to get some rest," Fraiser said, wiping his cheek with an unneeded bandage.

The boy pulled away.

"I need him to come and make the strangers bring my parents back."

"What makes you think Ian can make them do anything?" Andrew asked, confused.

"He's the son of _God_," the little boy said. "He can do _anything_."

Ian sighed, closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. It was amazing how quickly one could get a headache.


	3. 03

_Author's note: Okay, just so you are aware, I'm getting ready to go to the Stargate convention in Chicago in a couple of weeks so I'm working my butt off trying to get everything ahead on the job front so it all goes smooth while I'm gone. So I might be a little erratic in my posting. But I'll try!_

OOOOOOOO

Andrew wasn't the only one to give Ian an incredulous look, and Ian scowled.

"What's he talking about, Colonel?" Hunt asked.

"He's the Son of-"

"Ian." It was weird calling someone else by his own name, but there was no way he needed to finish that sentence. It had been annoying enough the first time, and obviously Joshua or Sabrina – or both – had continued the story even after Ian had left with SG-1. "Where were these strangers staying? In your village?"

"Near the cave," the boy replied. "It's just on the other side of the-"

"I know where the cave is," Ian interrupted. "How many are there?"

"Strangers?"

Again it was a measure of how much he'd matured, because Ian didn't even make the comment he normally would have.

"Yes."

"When they first came there were only five. Now there are at least fifteen."

"Do they have weapons?"

The boy nodded, another tear rolling down his cheek.

"Doctor Fraiser," Hunt said, interrupting before Ian could ask any other questions. "Why don't you take our young friend here to the infirmary and give him a quick check up? I want to make sure he's okay."

Which actually mean he wanted to get him out of the room so they could have a conversation in private, and Fraiser knew it. She nodded, and gave the boy one of her best smiles.

"Come on," she said. "It won't take long."

"But I need to get back and-"

"You need to do what you're told," Ian interrupted, effectively ending the argument.

The boy snapped his mouth closed, quailing just a little – which made Ian feel a bit guilty – and nodded.

"We won't be long though?" he asked.

"Not at all," Hunt assured him. "Go with Doctor Fraiser son. She'll take good care of you."

Obviously Hunt was feeling a little guilty as well.

Janet handed him her hand and helped him up. It was a sure sign of how thoroughly Ian healed him when the boy didn't even wince.

"Are you hungry?" she asked as they walked toward the door.

Ian had just enough time to see him nod before the door closed behind them.

"What can you tell me about this place, Colonel?" Hunt asked the minute the door was closed. "How did that kid get an English accent?"

"He was born with it," Ian told him. "They're descendants of the Roanoke settlement."

"Roanoke as in the lost settlement from _1587_?" Rodney McKay asked, speaking for the first time since he'd followed Hunt down to the embarkation room.

Ian nodded.

"We found them on a mission that Daniel had dragged us on looking for rocks that were supposed to be rich in energy."

"What, like coal?"

"Yeah. All we found, though, was an annoying little kid that followed me around and managed to get himself hurt. Then Daniel guilt-tripped me into fixing his leg, and suddenly everyone in the village thought I was Christ reincarnated."

"You?" McKay asked, incredulous.

Ian scowled.

"So these strangers…" Hunt said, before the conversation could get too sidetracked. "Who do you think they are?"

"No idea. As far as we could tell, the Ancients had been to the planet and gone, and the Goa'uld are the ones who took the colonists there in the first place."

"Obviously someone after the rocks, though…" Andrew said.

"Maybe. Whatever they want, though, they're causing a lot of trouble trying to get it."

"What _about_ the rocks?" McKay asked. "What are they good for?"

"Not a lot. They're better than coal, but the samples we took didn't show too much promise as an alternative fuel. Nothing better than what we already have, anyways."

"So it's not _our_ problem, then. Send the kid back to where he came from and let's get working on the-"

"Of course it's our problem," Ian said, scowling.

"How so?"

"He came looking for Ian," Andrew said.

_"And…?"_

"And he _found_ me," Ian replied. "And I'm not going to turn my back on him or his folks."

He looked over at Hunt as he said it, and the general hesitated.

"What do you want to do, Colonel?"

"At least a reconnaissance…" Ian answered, instantly. "Take a look and see what the Brish are up against, and see what we can do to help. If nothing else, we can always take them someplace else where it's safer."

"Like where?" Rodney asked, sarcastically.

"Someplace that their little boys aren't getting burned, cut and terrorized," Ian answered.

"I'll volunteer to go with Ian," Andrew said.

McKay scowled.

Hunt frowned as well.

"And if there's an ambush waiting for you at the gate?"

"They can't ambush what they can't _see_," Ian said. "We'll take a Jumper."

McKay sighed.


	4. 04

_Author's Note: Okay, I screwed up – but only a little. The Ancient ships are called Jumpers in the Mitchell Files, but they're called gateships in the Campers series, because I had to have my little fun at the expense of the Atlantis show. So just pretend Ian said they were going to take a Gateship and not a Jumper at the end of the last chapter._

OOOOOOOOO

The embarkation room had been enlarged since Ian had joined the SGC. With the discovery of Atlantis – and the Gateships – it soon became obvious that there was a definite advantage to be gained if they had immediate access to the Gateships on Earth. It wasn't a good idea to keep a fleet of them there – none of the other nations of the world wanted such a potentially deadly resource at the instant hands of the US military at any rate – but Nathan Brooks had brought in an army of engineers and structural architects and had them enlarge the embarkation room to hold an incoming ship, and to make easier access for the craft to get in and out of the mountain. No ships were kept on Earth, but they were close at hand if a need for one came up in the SGC – or elsewhere in the world, for that matter.

Which was convenient just then. With the little boy in the infirmary wolfing down a meal that would have fed a family of six easily, Hunt and the others were waiting in the control room.

Ian scowled, looking at his watch impatiently.

"Where _is_ he?"

Andrew was far more relaxed.

"He's probably-"

The gate suddenly engaged, interrupting them.

"Incoming wormhole…" the technician at the dialing computer announced – unnecessarily.

"Do we have a code?" hunt asked, looking over her shoulder.

She nodded as the information came over her screen.

"It's Major Hayden in Gateship three."

"About time," Ian grumbled, heading toward the door.

Andrew and Hunt exchanged amused glances, and Hunt ordered the iris open and the shield down as they headed out the door as well.

OOOOOOOOO

"Someone call a cab?" River Hayden asked cheerfully as he stood on the ramp of the Gateship a minute later.

"We need to go check out something," Ian told him, walking over.

"Good to see you, too, Ian," River told him, rolling his eyes in mock annoyance. "Where's Shawn?"

"With Gina in D.C. Andrew's coming, though."

"He's not bringing _JJ_, is he?"

"No," Andrew said, coming over in time to hear the question. "He's with my mom and dad."

"Good."

The last time they'd brought one of the labs from the SGC onto a Gateship, it'd been a disaster. Luckily, River was a major and could delegate the messier chores – such as cleaning up dog vomit and large piles of crap – to those pilots who were under him. But this time he was the only one who'd come, and he didn't have anyone to pass that duty onto.

"We're taking _Ian_, though," Andrew reminded him.

Ian scowled.

"Cute. Get your shit so we can get going."

He turned and walked off, heading over to talk to Hunt, and River frowned.

"What's his problem?"

Not that they weren't used to his short temper and annoyed expressions, but Ian usually had a bit more patience when it came to insulting each other.

"It's complicated," Andrew told him. "I'd better go get geared up, though, so you'll have to hear the story from him."

They might be doing reconnaissance from a Gateship, but there was no way Andrew was going to go without a weapon.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

"Why do _I_ have to go?" McKay asked with a scowl. "I don't know the kid. With the exception of Ian's boys, I don't even _like_ kids."

Hunt wasn't moved.

"You're going because you're an advisor. So you'll be _advising_."

And that would keep him from screwing with the shield technology while Ian was gone. Not to mention Hunt was tired of McKay's company.

"I'm a _technical_ advisor," McKay said. "Find me something _technical_ and I'll advise."

"You're coming, McKay," Ian said, walking over to them. "Follow Andrew and get suited up."

McKay huffed.

_"Ian…"_

"I might need your help," Ian told him, interrupting any argument before it could begin. "Just do it."

He wanted to argue; even Hunt could see that and the general didn't even know him all that well. But he snapped his mouth closed on whatever argument he was going to make and gave Ian a long searching look before finally turning and following Andrew out the door without looking back.

Hunt looked over at Ian.

"You really think you're going to need him?"

Ian shook his head.

"Probably not. Not if it's all about force, anyway. He's had years of training, and still can't shoot worth a shit."

"Then why are you taking him?"

"Because I was taught to always go prepared. McKay's not as worthless as he'd like to be."

Hunt just shrugged. He was all for anything that kept McKay out of his hair.

"Are you going to take the boy?"

_Now_ Ian hesitated.

"I'm not sure, really. I might need him, but I don't like the idea of taking him into something that might be dangerous."

Or worse, traumatizing.

"Just don't let him leave the Gateship."

Which was what Ian had been thinking, too. He really thought he'd want the boy there – just in case things had changed in the area over the last years and they needed a guide.

He nodded.

"I'm going to get changed. Would you do me a favor and ask Janet to get him ready to go?"


	5. 05

"Are you all right?"

Ian scowled at the little boy who was standing beside him at the rear entrance to the Gateship.

"I'm fine."

"You look ill…"

River snorted with amusement, and Andrew couldn't hold back a slight chuckle as he walked by the two of them and into the ship. Which just earned them each the same glare Ian had thrown at his namesake.

"Ian doesn't like to fly," River explained to the boy, coming back to the entrance and taking his hand. "Come on. I'll get you buckled in while he goes and finds a bucket."

"Cute, Hayden."

Ian actually turned to McKay, who had just entered the embarkation room with Hunt. The astrophysicist was dressed in field gear, loaded down with a pistol as well as a P90, and was adjusting his Kevlar vest.

"You know," he muttered as he walked up to Ian. "It wouldn't kill them to make a more comfortable vest, would it?"

"It'd kill _you_," Ian told him. "Are you ready?"

McKay scowled.

"As I'll ever be, I suppose. Any reason we can't do this _after_ lunch?"

"Get in the Gateship."

Bah.

OOOOOOOOOO

"You sure you want to sit in the copilot seat?" River asked with just a hint of a smirk. Ian might be able to intimidate many of the military personnel stationed in Atlantis – and a lot of the civilian ones as well – but River had known him way too long to be afraid of him. Or even nervous around him.

"I'm not going to throw up on you," Ian told him. "Just go so we can get back."

The sooner the better as far as he was concerned.

River's smirk became full blown, and there was a lot of amusement in his voice when he opened communication with Stargate Command.

"This is Gateship 3, outbound to P3X-95-A for reconnaissance…"

A voice came over almost immediately, and Ian recognized it as belonging to the technician who had been in front of the dialing computer earlier.

"_Roger, Gateship 3. Check in is in one hour."_

Meaning they had an hour to check the place out before Hunt wanted to know what was going on – which was plenty of time for a Gateship to get info on the planet.

"Roger. We'll be in touch."

He closed the communications system and looked over at Ian.

"Dial it up."

Ian tapped in the address without turning to look at the boy for help with it. An advantage of having a good memory.

"Cloak as soon as we get through, Hayden," Ian reminded him.

"I know…"

River rolled his eyes skyward as if asking for help from those who would try and tell him how to fly a mission, and when he accelerated to take off, he might have gunned it just a little more than was necessary – causing Ian to blanch just a bit.

Ha.

OOOOOOOOOO

They came out of the gate, and barely rematerialized before River engaged the cloak and threw the Gateship into a sharp ascent – a maneuver designed to protect from immediate attack from ground forces that might be waiting to ambush incoming travelers.

No one attacked them, though – although the younger Ian, who was firmly buckled into his seat just behind River, made a retching sound that made the New Yorker glad he wasn't sitting behind him. Andrew looked over, sympathetically.

"Are you okay?"

The boy was made of sturdy stuff – he came from a sturdy people after all – and he nodded. Although he didn't say anything, probably from fear of losing what had been a fine lunch.

River turned as well as he could so the boy would feel like he was part of the conversation.

"Sorry about that."

Ian broke in before the boy had to try to reply.

"We're going to circle the planet once, just to make sure we know exactly what we're dealing with as far as strangers go. Your people haven't developed any new kinds of machines since I was here last, right?"

The boy shook his head and River nodded.

"So all we have to do is look for technology and we'll find them."

"So set the sensors on the ship to do that," McKay said, impatiently. He hadn't really been all that fond of the sudden maneuver River had made, either.

Ian had already started to do just that, and River turned back to face the HUD.

"Looks like we don't even need to do a full recon," he said, more to himself – although Ian was certainly close enough to listen. And in the right spot to see what he was talking about. On the HUD he could clearly see a small grouping of vehicles that had no business being on the planet they were on. They were clustered together behind a mountain; clearly the people who had put them there were using the rough terrain to keep them from being discovered by the indigenous population.

"They're covered," River said, as if following Ian's train of thought – and he probably was. "So they're trying to hide them from aerial recons…"

"But not from _sensors_," McKay said, smugly. "So why don't we head on down and see who these people are so we can-"

An alarm suddenly blared on the Gateship, and River swore as he yanked back on the yoke, pulling the ship once more into a dizzying maneuver. A bolt of energy shot right by them, missing by only feet.

"What the hell is that?" McKay asked, his eyes wide and his expression panicked.

"They're firing at us," River reported, already twisting the ship around and trying to regain altitude he'd lost when he'd maneuvered.

"What? They can't! We're cloaked!"

A barrage of energy bolts rocked the area they were in, causing the Gateship to shudder.

"Tell them that."

River was a bit too busy to make any more of a reply, and he was busy checking his HUD and trying to figure out where best to go to make a quick escape. The only problem was, as much as he was twisting and dodging – and as maneuverable as the Gateship was – they were pretty much surrounded and he didn't have any place to go.

"Hold on!"

Like they hadn't all been clutching their seats already?


	6. 06

"Get us out of here, Hayden!"

River didn't waste time looking over at Ian; he was too busy trying to do just that.

"I'm already on – _shit_!"

This was immediately followed by a loud crash and an explosion that the Gateship's dampeners couldn't even begin to handle. The ship rocked violently.

"We lost the cloak…" Ian told him, looking at the HUD since River was too busy trying to regain control of the ship – which was suddenly plummeting at an alarming rate.

"It's the least of our worries," McKay told him, clutching his seat with a white-knuckled grip.

"We-"

Another explosion and an even worse rocking.

"_Hang on_!" River yelled as the alarms blared even louder and more insistently. "We're going down."

"_Shit_!" Ian turned to the boy, who was pale and terrified looking – which was probably a mirror of his own expression. "Hold on! As tight as you can!"

The boy nodded furiously, and grabbed the restraints that River had buckled him in with. An instant later the mountainside that a few minutes ago had simply been a pretty view was now suddenly looming on the HUD. The alarms blared, and Ian wasn't the only one to brace himself as they crashed into a heavily wooded area and tore a wide path through the trees until their momentum was finally slowed enough that a particularly large tree was solid enough to stop their progress.

The Gateship slammed into it with a loud noise that was a mixture of metal protesting rough treatment and the tree giving an equally indignant noise as a solid chunk was taken out of it. Ian felt himself slammed against the restraints, felt something give way, and then everything was black.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"Ian..."

He felt hands sliding under his shirt, which woke him completely. And immediately he wished he'd been allowed to go a little more slowly. His head was pounding, his shoulder felt like it had definitely been dislocated, and he was pretty sure he could smell burning flesh. Pain aside, though, there were other things that were more important than just him. Including whoever it was that was checking on him.

He sat up, pushing the hand away from him while at the same time realizing that it was Andrew who was crouched down beside him.

"You okay?" he asked.

Andrew had a nasty cut above the bridge of his nose with a bruise to match, and there were several burn marks on his uniform. He smiled, though, in relief when Ian sat up, and he leaned back a bit and wiped his forehead, which only left a smudge of soot across the bruise he already had there.

Ian scowled, but it was more introverted than anything as he gave himself a quick going over.

"I ache, but that's it." He staggered to his feet looking around and trying to ignore the headrush from standing up too soon with a head injury. He saw the boy sitting in a miserable heap with his head in his hands being tended by McKay, who had a first aid kit opened and resting on the uneven ground beside him. "Where's River?"

"He's checking out the Gateship…"

Andrew turned, and Ian followed his gaze. The Gateship was a burning mess and completely unsalvageable. A sudden movement from behind it drew Ian's attention and he saw Hayden running out from the rear of the ship carrying a large gear bag. Ian stumbled over to him, followed by Andrew.

"Are you out of your mind?" he asked, irritated that his friend would risk his life running back into a burning craft like he had. Not to mention, he was pissed that Hayden had managed to get them shot down in the first place.

The Californian shook his head. He was bleeding and burned but he seemed mobile enough.

"We need the supplies. The ship's useless."

Ian nodded his agreement with that statement and turned back to McKay and the boy.

"How's he doing?"

"I'm _fine_, thank you," McKay said without looking up from the cut he was trying to clean out.

"Not you," Ian said, leaning over and then deciding that leaning over was a terrible idea and kneeling down beside the youngster. "Is he hurt?"

Even as he was asking, he was reaching out to touch the boy's cheek to find out for himself.

"He's managed to avoid any broken bones," McKay said. "As near as I can tell, anyways. And I don't _think_ he has any serious burns, but I'm not sure about internal injuries or-"

"He has a concussion, a broken rib and a bruised kidney," Ian interrupted. "And…" there was a slight pause as he concentrated on the head injury first and then the internal injuries. "_Now_ he doesn't…"

The boy's eyes widened as he realized he didn't hurt any more and McKay's face took on a slightly annoyed expression.

"How about me next?" he asked.

Ian scowled, reached out and touched McKay's forearm and concentrated for a moment.

"You're not hurt."

"_What_? Yes, I am."

"Not badly."

He had several bruises from what Ian could see, but nothing any more serious. Not even a burn.

"But-"

"Look, Rodney, I need to be able to stay on my feet, okay? Your injuries aren't that serious, so-"

"But-"

"Colonel, what's the plan?"

Andrew's question was an obvious way of stopping the debate that Rodney wanted to have with Ian – which was nice of him, since Ian wasn't really in the mood for an argument. Not with his head pounding the way it was.

"Two things," he said, as River walked over as well. "The first is to get the hell away from the Gateship."

"What?" McKay couldn't help himself really. "We need to stay close to it, so when they send a rescue team they'll be able to find us."

"If they send a rescue team, they're going to get ambushed as easily as we did," River said, sorting through the bag he'd pulled out of the Gateship. "We need to warn them before they realize we've had trouble."

"And we need to be far away from here when whoever shot us down comes looking for survivors," Andrew added.

McKay scowled.

"Fine, then. Where are we going to go?"

Ian looked over at the boy.

"We're going to the cave."


	7. 07

McKay frowned.

"The _cave_? I thought we needed to get back to the Stargate and warn the rescue parties…"

"We have a little leeway before Hunt starts sending in rescue teams," Ian said. "But I have a feeling that the gate's going to be guarded."

"Won't the cave?" Andrew asked.

"We need to find out what's going on," Ian told them, rummaging through the pack River had pulled from the Gateship. "Chances are they're going to be around the cave – and we'll get a chance to see what's going on."

"As much as I hate to _remind_ you of this," McKay said. "These guys just shot down a _cloaked_ Gateship. I'm pretty sure they're going to notice us snooping around – and even more certain they're going to know we're here once they find the burning wreckage…"

"There isn't much we can do to hide that…" Andrew said, looking toward the burning Gateship.

"I don't like the thought of leaving that kind of technology for someone else to find…" McKay said, frowning. "Especially people that we don't know…"

Ian nodded his agreement, and stood up.

"We can take care of that right now, though," he said, dropping the bag and moving over to stand at the rear entrance of the doomed craft. His eyes squinting against the heat of the blaze, he pulled the pin on the grenade he'd pulled out of the bag.

"What are you-"

"Fire in the hole!" he shouted before McKay could get to close.

"_What_?" the astrophysicist realized what he was holding and threw himself behind a boulder, while Andrew and River grabbed the boy and pulled him back behind a stand of ancient trees. Ian tossed the grenade negligently into the rear of the Gateship and then hurriedly joined McKay.

"Are you out of your _mind_?" McKay shouted. "We-"

The explosion was deafening – which was just as well since Ian didn't really want to hear whatever it was Rodney was telling him. Pieces of the Gateship slammed into the rock in front of them with alarming force, and other pieces rained down on the area in a spectacular show of hot glowing metal chunks.

Ian looked over at McKay, a little surprised by the force of the explosion.

"You okay?"

"No thanks to you. What did you do that – _hey_!"

Ian hadn't waited to hear the lecture – or the question. Once he knew McKay was all right, he headed for the others, looking for any injuries as he walked over.

"You guys all right?"

Andrew and River both nodded.

"I didn't think it'd blow so violently," River said in frank appreciation of the explosion.

Ian smiled, despite the seriousness of the situation. After all, he'd just blown up their only ride. It was feet only from there on.

"I didn't, either," he admitted. "But at least whoever shot us down won't be turning it against us in the future."

"Well there is that…"

"To the cave now, then?" Andrew asked, slinging his P90 over his shoulder.

Ian nodded, and looked down at the boy – who was still looking pale and scared, and a little awed.

"Can you find the cave from here?" he asked.

The boy nodded.

"Wait a minute," McKay interrupted before the boy could actually say anything. "I thought you've been here before."

"I have."

"Then why don't _you_ lead the way?"

"Because we never came this way," Ian told him.

"I have hunted here with my father many times," the smaller Ian told McKay, obviously trying to reassure him that they wouldn't be floundering. Having been put in charge of guiding the group actually had helped him snap out of his shock a little, which was all to the good as far as Ian was concerned. Bad enough the poor guy had been crashed with them, he shouldn't be walking around afraid, too.

"Well _that's_ reassuring," McKay said, rolling his eyes.

The boy didn't catch the sarcasm, and Ian gave him a smile that plainly said _he_ was reassured.

"We'd better get going, then. We'll stay on the rocky areas as much as we can to leave the fewest tracks. Andrew, take our six."

Andrew nodded and dropped back a little, his P90 off his shoulder now. River handed Ian the P90 he'd managed to salvage from the Gateship before it'd been destroyed, along with his pack.

"How far is this cave?" McKay asked.

"Less than a day's walk," the boy replied as he and Ian led the way out of the newly formed clearing, a waning plume of dark smoke, some rocks and trees all the cover they had for the moment.

McKay sighed.

"Great." He looked over at Hayden. "Next time, _I_ fly."

River ignored that.

OOOOOO

_Author's note: this one is a little short, I know, but I'll be bringing in the bad guys in the next chapter, so you have something to look forward to…_


	8. 08

"High Commander!"

The man who turned his head at the call was an intimidating presence. He was tall, dark-haired (which was shorn so close to his scalp he might as well have been bald), had a scar that ran across the left side of his face from his forehead down and along his cheek – barely missing his eye – and carried a weapon the likes had never been seen on any of the planets he'd ever been to. One of the main reasons he carried it, really.

"What is it, Moran?" he asked, his tone clearly indicating that there had better be good news coming.

The subordinate saluted hurriedly, panting from the run he'd just made.

"We shot down the strange craft."

"I gathered that from the plume of smoke," The High Commander said. "Where is the crew?"

"We haven't made it to the wreckage, yet."

The High Commander scowled, allowing his annoyance to show plainly. Moran prudently stepped back.

"I want them found. _Alive_."

"Yes, High Commander."

The man turned to go, certain he'd been dismissed, but the Commander called his name once more.

"Moran…"

"Yes, High Commander?"

"Lead the men yourself."

Moran nodded.

"Yes, High Commander."

There was a slight hesitation as he waited to make sure no other orders were forthcoming, and then he turned and ran off once more.

The High Commander watched him go for a moment, and then turned back to the Stargate. He had a small group of technicians working on the dialing device, and walked over to them. All of them came to attention immediately, but he wasn't in the mood for formality.

"Have you discovered the origin of the ship?"

Their leader shook his head.

"No, High Commander. Unfortunately, there isn't really any way we can tell where it came from unless-"

"Your excuses are of no interest to me," the High Commander said, cutting off the explanation. "I want to know where they came from."

"Yes, High Commander."

The technicians all returned their attention to the dialing device, although they definitely checked over their shoulders occasionally to watch the High Commander with nervous expressions.

He watched them for a moment, and then turned away once more. There were other things that required his attention, after all.

OOOOOOOOO

"Seriously, there is _no way_ that they should have been able to detect us," McKay said – again. "The very fact that they _were_ means we're in a lot of trouble."

Since this wasn't the first time he'd brought up the situation, none of the others said anything – although the boy looked over at Ian questioningly. He winked, giving the youngster a slight smile, which broadened when McKay tripped over one of the many holes in the ground they were walking across.

"Watch out for the snake holes," he warned as Rodney picked himself up off the ground. _Again_.

The astrophysicist gave him a dirty look.

"Thanks."

"Any time."

Andrew snickered from behind them, and McKay turned on him.

"You know, you guys _might_ want to be a bit more concerned. We _really_ are in a lot of trouble here."

"Panicking isn't going to help, Rodney," Ian told him.

"Ignoring the problem isn't going to help, either."

"I'm not _igno_ring it," Ian replied. "But there's not a hell of a lot that I can do about anything until we have more intel. Which means getting to a position where we can figure out what's going on and who's doing it."

"He means the _cave_," Ian Brooks (the smaller one) added, helpfully.

McKay scowled.

"I know. Thank you."

The sarcasm was completely lost on the boy. He merely nodded his head politely, and pointed out yet another snake hole in time for McKay to avoid it.

OOOOOOOOOO

Moran stood at the landing platform of the small transport, watching as his subordinates looked around the crash site. From where he stood, he could clearly see the path the down craft had taken through the mangled trees, and could sort of see the clearing that had been made by the crash. What he didn't see was the ship itself or the crew that had been flying it. Alive or dead.

He scowled as one of his men came over and saluted him.

"Report."

"The ship is destroyed."

"And those flying it?"

"We are searching now."

"Search the remains of the ship."

The subordinate didn't dare make a sarcastic comment to the obvious. He merely shook his head.

"There is nothing left to search, Sub Commander. The ship is destroyed."

"So the crew is dead?"

"We believe the crew are the ones who destroyed the ship. At least one of them."

"What?"

"We believe-"

"I heard you," Moran snapped. "Explain your reasoning."

"The ship was most likely damaged beyond quick repair in the crash – or by our weapons. Evidence leads us to believe that it wasn't the crash that destroyed it, though. From the way the pieces are scattered, a massive explosion did."

"It could have been a secondary explosion."

"Yes, Sub Commander."

"But you don't believe so?"

"We are looking for tracks."

Moran scowled again, looking around the trees as if expecting to be attacked any moment.

"Find them."

The man saluted.

"Yes, Sub Commander."


	9. 09

_Author's note: So, I know that I've been erratic in my posting lately, what with getting ready for the trip to Chicago, then going, and then trying to catch up afterwards, but there doesn't seem to be a lot of interest in this story. Is it boring? Taking too long to develop, or is it just lack of interest? I can't help the posting schedule - at least not for a while, still, but I'd probably make a bit more effort if it seemed more people were reading. This is not a shameless ploy to get reviews, I just want to know what everyone is thinking. You're more than welcome to email me._

OOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"How much farther?"

McKay wasn't in the best shape. He wasn't really in _any_ shape – although he was far healthier than he'd ever been in his life before joining up with the Atlantis expedition so many years ago. But being healthier didn't necessarily mean he enjoyed forced hiking – because he _didn't_. And he had no problem letting everyone else know it.

Ian looked down at the boy, who was walking easily beside him. He still hadn't recognized anything, but his namesake seemed to know exactly where he was going, and that confidence as enough for Ian.

"How much longer, do you think?" he asked.

The boy looked up at the sky.

"We should get there well before dark."

"Well, _that's_ helpful," McKay said, sarcastically.

"It will be dark in less than three hours," the boy told him. "We should be there before then, if you do not slow down."

"And then what?" Rodney asked, ignoring the comment the boy had made about how slow he was going. "We find the cave and what?"

"Depends on what we see when we get there," Ian told him. "Hopefully, there will be some activity going on in that area, and we can see what's going on…"

"How are we going to do that?" Andrew asked, skeptically. Since River had the tail guard, and Ian had the lead with the boy, Andrew could listen in on the conversation – and even join in on it – without feeling he was neglecting his own guarding duties. "We know they can see through the Ancient's shielding, so they're probably working with pretty good sensors. They'll most likely see us coming…"

"We don't know for sure what they saw," Ian said, stepping around a snake hole. "For all we know they could have shot us down using the electromagnetic field the Gateship gives off when it came through the Stargate."

"Or a trace of ion from the engines…" McKay said, looking as if that had just occurred to him – and looking a little more hopeful because of it.

Ian nodded.

"We can _assume_ they're working with better sensors, but we'll know for certain if they manage to find us while we're walking."

"Why's that?" Andrew asked.

"Because I'm using a device to cloak us," Ian replied, reaching into one of the many pockets he had and pulling out a small, credit card shaped item. "It works with the exact same principles that the Ancient cloaking device on the Gateship uses, and-"

"You brought a _Suppression Device_?" McKay asked, surprised. "Why didn't you say something?"

Ian shrugged.

"I didn't want to listen to you telling me about the probability that the device wouldn't work, given that they've already shot us down while we were cloaked."

McKay hesitated.

"Oh."

"What does it do?" the boy asked, curiously, looking at the device in Brooks' hand, but not reaching for it.

"It'll keep them from finding us," Ian told him. "Hopefully."

"Actually," Rodney said, shaking his head and looking back the way they'd come. "It probably _won't_. They _did_ shoot us down, after all…"

Ian rolled his eyes, and the boy smiled – unsure what exactly was so funny, but certain that if things were really grave, he wouldn't be so amused.

"I know, Rodney."

"It's a cloaking device, then?" Andrew asked.

"Yeah."

"Why don't _we_ have them?"

"Because they're _extremely_ experimental," McKay answered, before Ian could. "Not to mention you have to have the Ancient gene to make it work for you."

"Sheppard had one go rogue on him last week and start giving away his location instead of blocking it," Ian said.

"Not exactly the way you want your cloaking device to work, huh?" Andrew asked, smiling.

"Not really, no. But _this_ one should be working right. I've been tinkering with it for almost a week, now."

"We'll know soon," Rodney said, looking around once more before dodging around yet another snake hole. "They _have_ to have found the wreckage by now, and _we're_ on foot and they're not. If they know where we are, it's only a matter of time before they come and get us."

"Let them try," Andrew said, checking the action on his P90.

OOOOOOOOOO

Moran acknowledged the salute from his subordinate.

"What did you discover?"

"There were survivors, High Commander," the man told him. "We found signs that clearly indicate they are on the move…"

"On the move where?"

"We're not sure. There's no indication that the indigenous people have flight capabilities, so we are working on the assumption that the ones we shot down are merely visitors. As such, we doubt they know the land, so they are probably heading for the Ancient's ring."

"Find them."

"We're looking, High Commander. The sleds are heading out, now, to intercept them."

"Assuming they're heading for the ring," Moran repeated.

"Where else would they go?"

Which was a fair question, Moran knew. Especially since the subordinate knew the report on this planet as well as he did. There was nothing of value here, aside from the rocks – and the people themselves – and the crew of the destroyed ship most likely were simple explorers in the wrong place at the wrong time, but Moran's superior would want to make sure they didn't survive to send for others. And he'd want a chance to find out where they were from, to judge whether or not there was a potential for new resources on their planet.

Which meant Moran needed the crew. Alive.

"Find them," he repeated, ignoring the question. "Get all the sleds you need, but find them. Now."

The man nodded, saluted, and hurried off.


	10. 10

_Author's note: Hey guys, thanks for all the replies! I do intend to mention what's going on with Shawn and the others, but it'll most likely be towards the end of the story. I might even be talked into doing one about Jack and Sam and Murray later on. Who knows? It'll just depend, really, on interest._

OOOOOOOOOO

"They _really_ must want us…" McKay said, softly, as the group stood near a stand of trees and watched the tiny armada of vessels fly overhead. They'd been flying in a pattern that clearly indicated searching, and Ian had to admit that if he hadn't brought the Suppression device, they would have been found long before. As it was, they still stopped every time a ship flew over them – just in case – and that was slowing them down a bit.

"They can't find us, though, right?" River asked, following one of the ships with his P90.

"Probably not," Ian answered. "Or they'd be all over us."

"Or they're just getting _reinforcements_," McKay said.

"There's _five_ of us, Rodney," Ian told him. "How many reinforcements do you think they'd need?"

"Good point."

"We're going to have to move faster, though," Andrew said, looking up at the nearest craft – which as close enough that they could see the pilot and two others, but far enough away that they couldn't get a good look at their features. "We can't be running around here in the dark."

"We could probably move faster in the dark," River objected.

"Not with the snake holes," Ian said, shaking his head. "They're bad now, but really dangerous in the dark."

"It is not unheard of for someone to break a leg – or worse – trying to travel in the darkness," the younger Ian Brooks agreed. "But if that happened to _us_, we could be Healed…"

He looked over at Ian, who scowled.

"Let's try not to let that happen…"

He gestured for them to move out, and this time he had the boy walk with Andrew on point, while he and McKay took rear guard, leaving River to watch their flanks, now.

OOOOOOOOO

It was almost full dark by the time they reached the cave. Actually, they didn't make it completely to the cave, they only came close. Close enough to hear a lot of activity and stop to have a look before going any nearer. Which was a good thing, since the place was crawling with people.

"Shit…"

"What do you want to do?" River asked.

There was a definite mixture of people. From the way they were dressed, Ian had no trouble separating the indigenous population from the visitors Ian had told them about. Not to mention the fact that the indigenous people were the ones being forced to work, while the others guarded them.

"Let's get some more intel," Ian said, pulling out his binoculars. "I don't want to do anything that might get someone hurt."

Not someone who didn't deserve it, anyways.

"You must do _something_!" the boy said, his eyes locked on the cave entrance. Clearly he was looking for his parents – or perhaps other people he knew.

"Shhh!" McKay was quick to silence the boy, both with the admonishment, and with a hand over his mouth, in case it didn't work. "We're going to. Just be quiet."

Ian looked over at the boy. All he could really see around McKay's hand and forearm were the kid's eyes, which were wide and held a mixture of fear and helplessness.

"We'll take care of it. Just be quiet so you don't let them know we're here, okay?"

The boy nodded.

"Let him go, McKay."

"What? Are you sure? What if he-"

"He won't."

McKay gave him a less than certain look, but let Ian Brooks go. The boy knelt down behind the outcropping of rocks they'd hidden behind when they'd arrived, and watched Ian intently, waiting for him to fix things.

Well aware of the scrutiny – and not at all surprised by it or annoyed by it – Ian turned to Andrew.

"I'm going to do a perimeter check. While I'm gone I-"

"Wait a minute," McKay interrupted. "What's a perimeter check?"

"I'm going to walk around the area and find out what kind of resources they have guarding this place…"

"What kind of _resources_? They have a lot of _people_ and _weapons_."

"And how many guards?" Ian asked him. "Where are they? Who's in charge? What-"

"I get it," McKay interrupted. "How are you planning on doing that without being caught? The Suppression device isn't going to work that close. They'll be within the field and-"

"I know, Rodney. I'm going to use something else. Just be quiet and try to stay out of trouble until I get back."

"What are you going to use?" McKay asked, curiously.

"It's not important right now. Just keep an eye out, and get the hell out of the way if they come this direction."

"How will you find us if we have to move?" Andrew asked.

"I'll find you." He turned to River. "You're in charge. Try not to get killed."

River grinned, despite the seriousness of their situation.

"I'll give it my best shot."

Andrew gave him a tight smile as well, and Ian knelt down beside the boy so he could be eye to eye.

"You listen to these guys and keep your head down, okay? I'll be back soon."

He got a nod in response and reached into one of the pockets on his vest, pulled out a device they couldn't quite see in the dark. He slipped it on his hand and stepped out from behind the rocks, moving so silently that they lost track of him immediately.


	11. 11

"Well… crap…"

McKay looked over at Andrew and River.

"They're coming this way, aren't they?"

River nodded, his normally cheerful expression concerned. The cause of that concern was a small group of the invaders walking towards the rocks they were using as cover.

"_And_ they're inside the range of the Suppression device…"

McKay nodded.

"They'll find us no problem if they come here."

"Shit." River looked around, although it was pretty dark and he didn't see much. "We're going to have to move."

"We cannot," Ian Brooks told them, softly. "The area is-"

"We're going to have to," River interrupted. He put his P90 in his right hand, and reached for the boy's hand with the other. "Come on. We'll find a safer place to hide until Ian gets back."

"He won't know where we went," Andrew said, checking his gun, but more importantly checking the knife in the sheath at his back. If he _had_ to kill someone he wanted to do it silently if it was at all possible, so the knife would be more valuable to him than the gun.

River shrugged, a motion they barely saw.

"He'll find us." He looked at the advancing patrol and tightened his grip on the boy's hand. "Stay close, McKay."

He led them away from the dubious shelter of the rocks, and promptly stumbled when he stepped on the edge of one of the snake holes. Only the strong grip of the boy helped him keep his balance, but the sound of the pebbles shifting under his feet echoed through the silence. Behind him, he could hear McKay stumble as well.

From near the cave, he heard the patrol react to the noise, and he tightened his grip on Ian Brooks' hand.

"Come on," he whispered.

He moved around the hole and headed for the closest trees, which were only twenty feet or so away. But too far as it turned out. Behind them, he heard a yell, and suddenly the air was filled with the soft explosions that River had come to associate with the sound of laser weapons being fired.

"They saw us!" Andrew yelled from behind, unnecessarily. "_Go_!"

He turned, ready to return fire, but couldn't get a clear shot in the dark, and didn't dare fire blindly with so many of the indigenous people around. Killing civilians – no matter where they lived – wasn't something Andrew did. Not even when he was being shot at.

McKay, River and the boy sprinted ahead, with Andrew doing his best to cover them. The boy moved easily, pulling River around the holes that he managed to avoid far more easily than the visitors did – of course, he had grown up dodging them, so he had a definite advantage there. McKay stumbled and went down with a yelp, causing River to hesitate.

"_Go_!" Andrew shouted, reaching McKay and stopping to jerk him to his feet. The astrophysicist gasped and pulled his arm free.

"I can't," he panted, his eyes bright with pain in the faint light from the moon above them. "I think my leg's broken…"

Andrew slung his P90 as River and Ian disappeared into the woods ahead of him – completely out of sight now.

"Come on, I'll-"

Whatever he was going to say was cut off abruptly as one of the energy bolts that had been slamming into the earth around them finally found a target. With a yelp of his own, Andrew went down in a heap, taking McKay with him. As he struggled against the pain in his leg and to free himself of the weight of his fallen comrade, McKay didn't see or hear them arrive. When he finally managed to sit up again, though, he found himself looking into the business end of several barrels – and many sets of cold eyes looking down at him, illuminated by a couple of odd looking torches that didn't seem to require flames, but didn't look like any flashlight McKay had ever seen.

He gave them a pained, and very forced, smile.

"Um… hi?"

The leader of the group stared dispassionately at him, then looked at the others.

"Bring them."

Crap.

OOOOOOOOOO

Blending into the darkness of the night, Ian Brooks made it all the way to the rear area of the cave without being seen. Even better, he managed to do it without tripping into one of the snake holes. The area he was in was uninhabited – the people who were working were actually inside the cave, and those guarding were either inside with them (he couldn't see) or were only guarding from outside the mouth of it. No one was near him.

He walked along the back of the cave, avoiding tumbled rocks and holes with equal care and wishing that he dared turn on his flashlight. There was a rear entrance to the cave, he knew. He'd been dragged through it years ago – although he hadn't been awake to see where it had exited the cave so he wasn't completely sure where it was. And there was always the possibility that a cave in had brought it completely down and closed it off. A lot could have happened in ten years, after all.

"Come on…" he muttered softly to himself. "Where are you, you piece of-"

Before he could finish the question, though, he saw a slight break in the edge of the rocks. One that he would have easily missed if he hadn't been looking for it. He walked over, and saw it was barely as wide as he, himself, was, and when he slipped into it, it was a tight fit. Clearly there _had_ been a cave in of some sort, because there was no way he could have been dragged through this by someone else before. Now he just had to hope that there wasn't a guard on this end – and he had to hope that there wouldn't be a cave in while he was inside.

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

"High Commander…"

The leader of the expedition looked up from his meal – which was being served by some very reluctant peasant women, chosen by his own aide for their pleasant looks. His aide came hurrying up, a communication device in his hand.

"It's Moran, High Commander," the younger man said, bowing low and extending the device.

"This had better be good," the High Commander said as he reached for it.

He palmed the device and in his palm formed a small image of his highest subordinate.

_"High Commander. We have captured two of the intruders."_

"Out of how many?"

_"We don't know, yet. They were with at least one other, who eluded us – so far – but we will capture him as well."_

"Have you interrogated them?"

_"Not yet, High Commander. We are still searching for the other one."_

"Find out how many there are – and why they are here."

_"Yes, High Commander."_

"Keep me informed, Moran."

_"Yes, High Commander."_

The image faded and the High Commander handed the device back to his aide.

"Where is Moran?"

"At the cave, High Commander."

The man frowned, his craggy face suddenly even viler than before – and far more dangerous.

"Go there. Listen in on the interrogations. I want to know why they were there. Have Moran suspend the work until we know if there are more in the area and we know what we can expect."

The man bowed, and saluted.

"Yes, High Commander."


	12. 12

"What do we _do_?"

River Hayden shushed the child beside him with a simple hand motion, and tried to dig himself and the boy even deeper into the pile of brush and branches that they were hiding under. The patrol had passed them several minutes before, and hadn't returned as near as he could tell, but it wasn't a sure thing that they weren't going to, and with them in hiding like they were, there wasn't much chance that he'd be able to do much to fight back if they were discovered. And right now, his biggest concern was making sure they were caught. Otherwise Ian would be on his own, and as much as River admired his friend, he was pretty sure that even Brooks couldn't take on all the invaders they'd seen.

And who knew how many they _hadn't_ seen?

The boy shivered beside him, and River put an arm around him, wishing he had a warmer jacket to give him. The day had been fairly nice, but the night was definitely turning cold.

"We're going to wait," he whispered. "Try to stay still…"

The boy clearly wanted to say more, but he didn't – and River appreciated that. Hopefully the patrol would think they were heading for the Stargate and would head that direction as well. And hopefully they'd all trip and fall into one of the snake holes.

OOOOOOOO

"Okay, _that's_ not good…"

Ian had managed to make his way through the very tight crack in the rear of the cave all the way into the cave, but it wasn't anything like he remembered it – and there was nothing wrong with his memory.

Instead of a dark cave with Ancient writing on one side and ancient (but not Ancient) writing and pictures on the others, he was looking at a cave that was a little bigger, now, and well lit for the most part. Slipping through what was an even tighter fit than the entrance, Ian found himself out of the tunnel and inside the cave proper – although as luck would have it he was behind a fairly large column of black rock that afforded him a little cover.

What he saw was _definitely_ not good. There were several men – indigenous men – working at chipping away the black rock from the edges of the cave while under the watchful eye of three armed guards. Aside from those three – who were scattered around but mainly guarding the exit and definitely not expecting trouble to come from the rear of the cave – there were two other men who weren't guards but clearly weren't from one of the villages, either. These two were standing beside the front entrance in a discussion with someone else using a device that looked to be a cross between a holograph machine of some sort and a radio.

"The patrol has discovered something," one of the men was saying to the holograph image the machine was projecting. "It could simply be one of the peasant children trying to-"

"But you aren't certain?"

"No, Sub Commander. We will-"

A disturbance outside the cave interrupted him, and both men turned – as well as the guards and several of the men who were chipping away at rock on the very edge of the cave. Ian took advantage of the distraction to peek out a little more, and had to bite back the groan of dismay when he saw a group of men bringing in two people. One unconscious and one who was clearly injured and in a lot of pain – to judge by the way he was being carried and was complaining.

"Seriously, guys…" Rodney McKay was saying, his face pale and pinched from pain. "This is all a misunderstanding. We're just-"

"Who are you?" one of the men interrupted.

"Rodney McKay," he answered. "_Doctor_ Rodney McKay."

He probably couldn't help himself when he'd added that last part.

"_Doctor_?" the other repeated, looking confused. "As in a healer?"

"No. A different kind completely." McKay shifted his position, trying to get comfortable where they'd set him down on the hard floor of the cave, but only gasped. "I wish I was, though…"

"What are you doing here?"

"Just… um… checking out the place," McKay said, wincing. "We didn't exactly plan to-"

"What's going on?" the holographic image asked, pulling McKay's attention to it instead of the men who were questioning him. It also drew their attention – as well as Ian's.

"Sub Commander," one of the men replied. "Our patrol has captured two of the intruders."

The man in the hologram clearly couldn't see what was going on – except for right in front of him – but Ian could easily see the change in his features – even from the distance he was away.

"Alive?"

"Yes, Sub Commander."

"Keep them there. I want to question them personally."

The man saluted.

"Yes, Sub Commander."

Before he could say anything else, the hologram vanished.

The men in charge looked down at McKay – and then at Andrew, who had been deposited unceremoniously beside him in a lifeless heap.

"Search them and tie them up," one told the leader of the patrol.

The man saluted, and the others hurried to obey.

"And get them back to work!"

The men who had been chipping away at the walls had stopped to watch, but at the command started to work again, even as those who had been guarding them pulled out odd-looking contraptions that Ian had a feeling were something nasty. Which was given even more credit when the men all flinched at the sight of them.

Sure enough, they proved to be some sort of energy whip – something Ian had only seen in B movies – and with a practice flip of the wrist it was lashed out at one of the closest men. The whip hit him and he cried out in pain as his skin was laid open across his shoulder and back.

_"Hey!"_

McKay wasn't in any position to stop them, but he couldn't see something like that happen and not object to it. The man who'd hit the worker sneered, but at a gesture from his superior, he simply walked back to his guard post.

Ian bit his lower lip in thought as he watched one of the patrol start tying McKay and Andrew. He didn't know where the guy in the hologram was, but the fact that he wanted to be in on the questioning gave him a little time to try and figure out what to do – and how to spring the others. Hopefully, Hayden was hidden someplace deep with the kid, because he didn't have time just then to try and go find him. First he had to free McKay and Andrew – preferably without anyone noticing right away.

Yeah. No sweat.


	13. 13

The trees gave some measure of cover. The darkness gave plenty more, and River and the boy watched and waited as the patrol came and went several times, clearly looking for them. Eventually, though, they must have decided that they weren't in the right place – or that River and his charge had gone elsewhere – because they finally gave up. Or maybe they just got tired of stumbling around in the dark, because even with powerful flashlights, the patrol was having as little luck with the snake holes as their quarry had had.

There was still no sign of Ian, however, and while River didn't think he was captured – there wasn't any kind of outcry like there had been when Andrew and McKay had been caught – he wasn't completely positive that he was in any position to help. For all he knew, he might have fallen into one of the holes and injured himself – not very likely, but possible – or might have found himself pinned by the searchers as they were.

He should go back to the gate and get help. He was fairly certain of the direction – but even if he had been completely lost the boy knew where they were and how to find the gate – but he was loath to leave McKay and Andrew in the hands of enemies (and they were obviously enemies) for even a short time. Not that he was doing them any good, but if they were transferred someplace else, he would know. If he left, they could be anywhere by the time he returned with help. Including someplace offworld.

"I wish I knew what was going on in there…" he muttered more to himself than anything.

"Inside the cave?" the boy whispered, his teeth chattering slightly.

River nodded, realized he wouldn't see that, and replied in an even softer whisper.

"Yes."

"There's a back way into the cave…" Ian Brooks said, quietly.

"What?"

"There's a back entrance. One that is hidden."

"Are you sure?"

The boy shrugged.

"I don't know anyone who knows about it. I haven't seen any of _them_ use it – I don't think."

"How do _you_ know about it?" River asked, only barely remembering to keep his voice down in his surprise.

"My father showed me. It was created during an earth tremor, he told me. Long before he was born. It's not very big, but he showed me in case I would ever need to know about it."

River hesitated.

"Can you tell me where it is?"

There was really no way he wanted to risk trying to move the both of them. Not if he could avoid it.

"In the back of the cave."

"Where?"

"In the _back_…"

River sighed, but he wasn't really all that surprised. It was easy to say where something was. It was a lot harder to actually explain exactly where that something was. Especially when it was hidden in the first place. The question now was if he dared try to make it to this backdoor with the boy – and if the risks of being caught stumbling around in the dark outweighed the chance at some valuable intel.

"How small is the opening?" he asked, his mind pretty much made up, but hoping for something that would tell him if it was a dumb idea or not. "Can I fit?"

"I think so. My father can."

Which didn't tell him anything, really. For all he knew, Ian Brooks' dad was all of four feet three inches tall and weighed a hundred pounds. It was worth it for the chance at knowing what was going on – and trying to find a way to get Andrew and McKay back.

"You're _sure_ you can find it in the dark?"

There was a slight hesitation, and River thought that maybe the idea was sunk. But when the boy spoke next, it wasn't uncertainty in his soft whisper; it was guilt.

"I have before…."

Meaning he'd probably snuck away without permission and had checked the place out. Hopefully.

"Good. Let's go, but move as quietly as you can, okay? And go _slow_, so we don't trip in those holes."

"Okay."

Leaving most of the supplies behind in the pack to cut down on how much he had to carry, River followed the boy with his weapon drawn, trying to match the silence that Ian was using as they left their hiding spot and headed to the cave.

OOOOOOOOOO

Andrew Stephens woke almost instantly, and wished a moment later that he hadn't. His head was screaming at him, his brain clearly trying to bounce out of his skull from behind his eyes. He groaned, softly, and opened his eyes, wondering even as he did it just how much worse his day was going to get.

"You're awake. Good."

He found himself looking into the cold eyes of one of the invaders.

"Lucky me."

His humor – little as it was – was wasted on the man.

"We were concerned that the stunner might have done you permanent damage."

"Where am I?"

"We're in the cave."

Andrew turned and saw that Rodney McKay was sprawled next to him, his face tight with pain and his leg wrapped in a haphazard splint that couldn't be doing much to hold it stable.

"You okay?"

"My leg is killing me – no thanks to these guys."

The stranger didn't change his expression.

"Lord Moran wants to speak with you. I suggest when he arrives, you show him more respect than you are at the moment."

"What do you want with us?" Andrew asked, ignoring the comment.

"_You_ are the intruders here," the man replied. "It will be you answering the questions."

Didn't that sound ominous?

OOOOOOO

Hidden out of sight, but not out of sound, Ian Brooks – of the United States Air Force variety (not the little boy) – gave a silent sigh of relief when he saw Andrew coming to. He'd been worried that whatever had been used to catch him might have been permanent also. It was good to see him awake and talking – although he didn't seem to be all that inclined to move around – which might have simply been prudence on his part to keep the enemy from knowing just how mobile he was at the moment. Ian hoped that was what it was, because with McKay clearly injured, Andrew was going to have to be as mobile as they could get him.

Now if he just knew what happened to Hayden and the boy…


	14. 14

They managed to make it to the back of the cave without raising any alarm. Of course, it might have had something to do with the fact that the patrol had captured McKay and Andrew and were too busy torturing them to come looking for anyone else – River hoped that wasn't the case, but the very possibility definitely made him move a little quicker than he'd originally planned.

In the dark – and it was pitch black where they were, now, since only the front of the cave was illuminated – young Ian had a little trouble finding the exact place he was looking for, but far sooner than he expected, River heard the faintest whisper coming from a little ways ahead of him.

"It's here…"

He moved toward the sound, careful where each foot went to keep from giving away their position now that they were so close to actually getting somewhere. A very faint light came from a crack that there was no way he ever would have found on his own – even in the middle of the day. The only reason he could see it now was because of the light that filtered in from the interior – and that was minimal.

"Jesus…" he whispered, running his hand along the width of the opening. "How big is your dad?"

He didn't wait for an answer, but instead went back to trying to figure out how he was going to manage to squeeze himself into an opening that didn't look big enough for the boy – much less himself.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"So what are we going to do?"

Andrew looked over at McKay, surprised that the astrophysicist had been intelligent enough to ask the question in Asgard – which was the only language the two of them spoke, but one that the invaders most likely didn't. He hadn't even been aware that McKay knew he spoke it.

He turned his attention to the two guards who were standing almost directly over them, scowling at the unfamiliar words.

"What do you suggest?"

McKay rolled his eyes.

"I don't _know_, but we can't wait around for their buddies to get here to question us…"

Andrew couldn't help but agree to that. Not that they knew a whole lot, but he was pretty sure that McKay wouldn't hold out to a lot of questioning – especially if they started in on painful means to get information. With an already broken leg, it wouldn't take much to hurt him.

"We'll have to hope the others-"

"No speaking!"

The leader of those who had captured them wasn't going to allow his prisoners to figure out a way to get loose. Nor was he going to allow them to chatter away with each other when he didn't know what they were saying. He punctuated the order with a kick that Andrew couldn't dodge, and glared at McKay as if daring him to say something. Anything.

McKay wisely clammed up.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

_"Bastard…"_

Ian knew better than to actually allow his anger to overcome his common sense – he'd learned a lot of things since he'd been the angry young man that had joined the SGC – but that didn't stop him from needing to vent a little of his frustration and fury. Bad enough they'd caught Andrew and McKay, they didn't need to kick Andrew when he was already tied and couldn't do anything to protect himself.

He'd seen all he needed to see. Someone was coming to question Andrew and McKay and he was going to have to get them out of there before that happened. There was just too much information they could glean – especially from _McKay_ – to risk allowing it to happen. He'd waited long enough to see if River and the boy had been caught, but if the people who were searching for them had managed to do it, Ian was fairly certain they'd be in the cave by now. Which meant Hayden had probably managed to elude their pursuers and find a safe place to hide. Hopefully they'd stay put, because while he could definitely use River's help, he didn't like the idea of the boy being put into any kind of danger.

The plan he'd been formulating wasn't really all that complicated – and it put the villagers in a little danger – but it was the only one he could think of with what limited help he had (none) and the technology he'd brought with him. Technology that hopefully none of the invaders had ever seen before and wouldn't be able to counter before he had things going his way.

He took a silent, deep breath and tightened his hand on the device resting in his palm, looking out from behind his scant cover to decide which targets were going to be the first to go down. Just as he was ready to make his first move, however, a faint rustling noise caught his attention and he whirled, expecting to see one of the invaders had managed to find his location in spite of all his care.

What he saw instead was a stealthily moving form squeezing its way out of the last section of the hidden entrance. A form that was wearing only a black tee-shirt and carrying a jacket and vest in one hand and a zat in the other. Only the sound of the village people working on the rocks once more kept the noises he was making from being heard by the invaders who were guarding them.

Ian waited until he was completely free of the rocks and then made a soft hissing noise to alert him before he turned off the device that had kept him hidden.

River Hayden whirled at the sound, and Ian could see that his chest and upper arms were scratched from his progress through the small entrance.

"What are you doing here?" River whispered so softly Ian could barely hear him.

"Where's the boy?"

Ian didn't have time for small talk.

"Back there."

Ian nodded, but before he could say anything else, River spoke up again.

"They got McKay and Andrew…"

"I know. We're going to get them back. Go get the kid, and bring him here..."

River frowned, wondering why Ian would want to put the boy in the middle of things when it was obvious he was a lot safer where he was.

"What's the plan?"

"They've got someone on the way to interrogate McKay and Andrew. We've got to get them back before that." The steady tapping of crude hammers against the rocks was still covering their conversation nicely, so Ian dared a little more. "I'm going to use a piece of technology that will kill most of their guys, but we're going to have to move fast once it starts, because they have radios and God only knows how many more people in the villages themselves."

"How many can you kill?" River asked.

"All but one."

Which told him Ian was planning on getting some intel of his own. Which was fine with River. He nodded.

"I'll go get the kid…"


	15. 15

Ian put his finger to his lips in a shushing motion when River reappeared only a little bit later with the boy in tow. Both of them nodded, and he gestured for them to stay put and went to them.

"I want you to stay right beside me," he whispered, softly, to the boy, making sure he used the most commanding tone of voice he could cinsidering he was forced to whisper. "But you _have_ to shut your eyes as tightly as you can when I tell you to. If you don't, you're going to get hurt, and I can't heal it. Do you understand?"

The boy's eyes widened in fear, but he nodded. River gave Ian an odd look, and he just shook his head. No time to explain – and by the time it was over, Hayden would probably figure it out anyway.

"Good." He reached out and took the boy's hand and pulled him to his feet, and then moved as quietly as he could to the side of the scant protection of the rock shelf they'd been using. "Close your eyes and _don't_ open them, remember…"

The boy shut his eyes, tightly, braced against the rock wall so he wouldn't lose his balance as all his attention focused on keeping his eyes closed. River had joined them, and watched as Ian put a device on his hand.

"Do _I_ need to close my eyes?"

Ian shook his head.

"Stay still, though…"

He stepped out from behind the rock and raised his hand toward the two most heavily armed guards. The device in his hand didn't make any sound or light up, but River paled as the two men that Ian was pointing at suddenly turned literally inside out. Blood and other parts of their bodies splattered against an invisible shield of some sort, which kept _them_ from being splattered as well, but it was one of the sickest and most horrifying things River had ever seen – and he suddenly knew exactly why Ian had told the boy to keep his eyes tightly closed.

Before he could say anything, and before anyone else had even noticed what was going on, the three men who were closest to Rodney and Andrew also vanished in just as quick and messy a manner. Blood spattered to the floor of the cave, and Andrew flung his head up as he realized something was definitely going on. People didn't disintegrate on their own, after all.

River glanced over at the boy and was relieved to see his eyes were still tightly shut. All around the cave, though, the people who had been working at the walls were suddenly realizing that something was going on as well. Men turned and looked blankly at the masses of goo that were all that was left of those who had been cursing at them to make them work faster, and Rodney McKay suddenly gasped.

"What the hell?"

It didn't help that some of the blood had splattered very close to his hand.

Ian moved into the main area of the cave, his need to have direct line of sight with his targets forcing him to make himself a target if one of the invading people entered the cave with weapons out. River followed him and covered him with his zat in his right hand, his left reaching out to take the boy's hand.

"Keep your eyes closed," River warned him.

The boy nodded, and stumbled a little because it was very hard to walk blind on a cave floor littered with stones.

"It's about _time_!" McKay said, seeing Ian and the others. "We're-"

He stopped as two more men entered the cave, and both imploded at a gesture from Ian.

"Oh my _God_!" Rodney stammered, his eyes wide and his face pale. "What the hell is _that_?"

"Shut up, Rodney," Ian said, reaching them and gesturing for one of the villagers to come over. The man shook his head, cowering slightly against the rock wall – as if that was going to give him any protection if Ian had decided to make a target of him.

Another man moved, though, and hurried over.

_"Ian Brooks!"_

The New Yorker spared a glance and recognized the man immediately. It had been ten years, but he hadn't changed at all.

"Richard."

"You're here to save-"

With his free hand Ian pulled his knife, handing it over to the leader of the village he'd visited so many years before.

"Free my friends, and then get your people together. We need to be quick."

Without looking back to make sure he was being obeyed, Ian headed to the entrance of the cave. At the same moment he did, the man who had kicked Andrew walked in, clearly wondering what was going on to judge by the way he was cursing.

"River!"

Ian pointed at the man, and River correctly assumed that it meant he was the one who was supposed to live. Rather than waiting to make sure, he fired the zat at him, dropping him in a heap before he could even reach for the stunning weapon he carried at his side.

"Bring him," Ian said, gesturing to more of the men – who were now actually beginning to move. Two of them jumped to, and hauled him up, dragging him between them as Ian led them all out of the cave. He looked around, but couldn't see any more guards – although he knew there had to be some somewhere. Andrew walked out with Richard, carrying Rodney McKay between them with far more care than the two men who were dragging the surviving invader.

"What's the plan?" River asked, joining them with several other men and the boy – who now had his eyes wide open.

"We're going to have to hide these guys," Ian said.

"They will just come looking for us, My Lord," Richard objected. "They will find us easily."

"Not if they think you're _dead_."

Several of the men drew back, but Ian shook his head.

"Relax," he told them. "I'm not going to kill you."

_Jeez._

He pulled a grenade out of his pocket.

"You're going to destroy the cave?" Andrew asked.

Ian nodded.

"You're going to need some _dynamite_," McKay told him. "It's a pretty big cave."

"I know what I'm doing." He looked at Richard. "Is there anyplace around here that we can hide for a bit?"

The man nodded after only the slightest hesitation, but before he could say where it was, Ian cut him off.

"Take them there," he said. "River, come back when you get them out of the way so you can show me where it is…"

River nodded.

"You're _going_ to need more grenades," Rodney told him, stubbornly. He was pale and dirty, but was still as arrogant as ever – and certain he was right.

"Go," Ian hissed, knowing they didn't have all that much time. "Kill anyone who sees you and try to cover your tracks as well as you can."

Richard nodded and they headed out as silently as they could, trying very hard to avoid the various snake holes around the cave. Ian waited until they were almost certainly out of range, and then pulled the pin on his grenade. He didn't count, and he didn't hesitate. He threw it into the cave, making sure it landed against a wall, and took off at a full run, well aware that he didn't have a lot of time.

A moment later the grenade went off, and triggered an explosion that was more powerful than even he could have imagined. Fire lit up the night, turning it into day, and a force slammed into him from behind, flinging him into the air and only releasing him when he came down crashing into a tree.


	16. 16

The forest was silent, as if it, too, needed a moment to recover from the shock of the incredible explosion it had just witnessed. Ian Brooks' still form lay sprawled under a spattering of rock dust, branches and dirt, and he didn't hear the sudden cries of alarm or hear the men running so close to him that one actually tripped on a branch that half shielded him.

The man cursed in the dark, but simply got up and ran on, toward the cave and those companions he'd left only an hour before when his scouting mission had started. Overhead, a sled whirred and came to an abrupt landing just as the men reached the clearing.

The air was choked with rock dust and silt that had yet to settle, and in the light given off by the sled and the spotlights the men were carrying, the shattered cave was nothing more than a heap of lighter black than the darkness that surrounded it. Moran stepped out of the transport, his expression shocked – something his men had never seen before.

"What happened?"

The leader of the scouting group stepped forward.

"We just arrived, Sub Commander. We haven't had a-"

_"What happened!?"_

"It must have caved in."

"We heard an explosion, Sub Commander…" another reported.

Moran frowned, looking at the remnants of the cave.

"They were using the insulated tools here, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then there shouldn't have been an explosion. The stone-"

He was interrupted when another man ran up from the cave area, coughing and panting in the choking dust.

"They're all buried, Sub Commander!" he reported, his face pale and afraid.

Moran scowled.

"There had to have been survivors. Start digging them out. I want to know what happened by daylight."

He turned on his heel and headed back to his sled. Now for the hard part.

OOOOOOOOOO

"This had better be important, Moran…"

The warning in the High Commander's voice was far more intimidating than the expression on his face just then. Moran had had his aide pull him out of his bed, and he looked just a little rumpled – and a lot unhappy. No doubt he'd been pulled away from the arms of a pretty young villager, the Sub Commander thought sourly.

"The cave collapsed, High Commander," Moran told him without preamble.

"What?"

"It collapsed."

"Collapsed or was _sabotaged_?"

The man was shrewd, Moran admitted, grudgingly. He'd just been notified and had already suspected what Moran himself had decided was undoubtedly the cause of the cave in.

"I'm not certain yet," he replied. "We haven't found anyone alive yet who can tell us what happened. I believe-"

"This is where they brought the strangers they captured?" The High Commander interrupted.

"Yes, sir."

"Tell me they searched them and tied them securely."

"I am certain they did, High Commander," Moran told him. "My second in command was in charge, and he is quite capable."

"No one else on the planet has the means to sabotage the cave, Moran," he was reminded.

"We've found evidence that the prisoners died with the others, High Commander."

They'd found a boot that was smeared with blood and all sorts of body parts. It had been close to the entrance, but still buried under a ton of rubble.

The High Commander frowned at that bit of information.

"Find out what happened, Moran. If the villagers can mount a resistance they would have done it by now. Someone else is involved and I want to know who – and I want them dead."

"Yes, High Commander."

"Keep me apprised."

The hologram went blank and Moran permitted himself a scowl.

Bastard. How was he supposed to find out what had happened when no one was left alive to tell him? Including – as near as they could tell – all the villagers who'd been working in the cave.

OOOOOOOOOO

A hand on his shoulder brought Ian Brooks back to consciousness. When the hand gently shook him, it brought him fully awake and upright with a hiss of pain that he couldn't suppress.

_"Shhh!"_

River Hayden's admonishment was so soft he wasn't positive he'd actually heard it. He was also almost completely invisible in the darkness of the night. Ian looked around, but couldn't see anything to give him any idea of where he was or how long had passed. All he could remember was the explosion – which must have knocked him out.

Hands tugged on him, silently suggesting that he get up, and he did so, feeling aching muscles and protesting bruised with every motion. At least nothing had been broken as near as he could tell. He crouched down and felt someone tug on him again – and was surprised when he realized that it was the boy and not Hayden. River was behind him, guarding their retreat. It was the boy who was guiding them.

Silently and slowly, they made their way deeper into the trees and away from the cave. Ian couldn't see anything, and wondered how the boy was managing to find his way, but there was no chance to ask him – and no way he was going to until he knew it was safe to speak.

Finally, however, they stopped, and the younger Ian flipped on the flashlight he'd been carrying, startling Ian and River both.

"Damn," River said, softly. "What did you do to that cave?"

"The thing's made of rocks that are almost as flammable as coal," Ian told him. "And a hell of a lot more volatile. I figured it was the best way to cover the fact that we took all the villagers. They'll think they died in the explosion along with their own men."

"Until they start digging for people, that is…"

Ian shrugged.

"By then we'll have a better idea of what's going on. Did you get the others to a safe place?"

Hayden nodded.

"There's another cave. The place is filled with them from what the head guy told me."

"Richard."

"Yeah."

"Do I still have a prisoner?"

"Yeah. He's not a happy camper, though. I doubt you're going to get too much out of him."

Ian shrugged again, and gestured for the boy to start moving again.

"I don't need him to cooperate to get the information I need. I just need him alive."


	17. 17

It took them quite a while to get to the cave that housed the rescued villagers. Which was all the better as far as Ian was concerned, since it meant they were a good distance away from the men who had captured them in the first place. The trip back had been made in silence and almost complete darkness – although the boy had flipped on the flashlight once or twice when he wasn't positive which direction they were supposed to go.

The first sign that they were getting close came as the sky to the east of them was just starting to give hint of a false dawn. A scuffling noise ahead of them made all three of them stop – and caused Ian to clench his hand around the device that he'd been holding. The sound stopped almost immediately, however, and the boy gave a low whistle that sounded a lot like one of the birds Ian remembered hearing in the forest the day before. A little out of place this early in the morning, of course, but the villagers probably weren't used to being stealthy – and he was certain they weren't used to hiding on their own planet.

The call was answered, and the younger Ian turned on his flashlight once more, leaving it on this time. With the light, the boy had no trouble finding his way, and they were soon moving through a protecting screen of heavy brush that hid the entrance to a much smaller cave. One that was now crammed with about thirty people, and dimly lit by some glowing paste that was smeared on the walls too unevenly to be natural.

"Thank God…" Rodney McKay said, when he looked up at their entrance. He was pale and sweating, his leg stretched out in front of him and a new splint holding the broken bones far more securely than the other one had been.

"You all right?" Andrew asked at the same moment, clearly concerned by all the scratches and bruises Ian had managed to pick up as he'd been flung into the trees.

"I'm fine," he said, looking around. Tied securely and sprawled on the stone floor of the cave – and guarded by several villagers – was his prisoner. The man was gagged as well as tied, telling Ian that someone – or maybe _everyone_ – had decided silence was golden. "Did he give you any trouble?"

Richard stepped forward.

"He made several threats."

Ian scowled and walked over to the man, who looked to be about ten years older than he was – and looked furious. His wrists were bloody from trying to free himself and there was blood on the gag as well. Clearly he wasn't afraid – although he did watch Ian intently as he approached.

"Hey!"

McKay's voice made Ian and all the others turn. It wasn't exactly a whisper, but it was obvious that he had made an effort to keep his voice down. Something he wasn't used to doing.

"What?"

"Aren't you going to do something about my leg?"

Ian scowled, but Andrew answered first.

"We gave you painkillers…"

"They're not _working_." He looked at Ian. "Come on, take care of it, okay? I'm not going to be any good to anyone if I can't stand up."

"You're not going to be any good to anyone, anyway," River retorted.

McKay gave him a withering look.

"Funny."

"I'll take care of it in a minute, McKay," Ian promised him. "But I have something else to take care of first." He looked at his prisoner, who sneered through the gag, plainly telling him to do his worst. Kneeling down in front of him, he reached for the gag.

"I wouldn't do that, Ian Brooks," Richard advised. "He will yell and bring his men down upon us."

Ian shook his head.

"He's not going to do anything, Richard." His hand made a slight twitch as he activated the device, and his expression tightened just a bit as he added the mental connection at the same moment.

The prisoner's eyes widened in shock as he suddenly felt the muscles in his jaw clamp down, holding his mouth closed far tighter than he could ever have done it on his own. Before he even realized that he was trying to move away, he found that the rest of his muscles had frozen as well – except those that were responsible for keeping him alive. His heart was suddenly pounding in his chest, and he was breathing as heavily as if he'd just finished a marathon.

"We can do this the _easy_ way," Ian told him. "Or we can do it the _hard_ way."

"What are you-"

"Shut up, Major," McKay interrupted before River could finish his question. Rodney had seen the device before, and knew Ian needed to be able to concentrate. Which probably explained why he hadn't fixed his leg, first. He needed all his attention for what he was doing just then.

Hayden frowned, but didn't say anything else, and Ian ignored them all to keep his attention on the prisoner.

"Do you want to know what the easy way is?" he asked.

The man felt a slight release on his neck muscles, and he nodded.

"The easy way; you tell me everything I want to know," Ian told him. "The hard way; I go inside your mind and take the knowledge. The only problem with _that_ is that it's very possible the procedure will kill you – especially since I don't care of you live or die and won't be gentle."

Andrew gave Ian an odd look, unaccustomed to the harshness of his friend's tone – and words. Ian was a jerk sometimes – although nowhere near as often as he had been when he was younger – but he _wasn't_ bloodthirsty, and his expression was rarely so cold. He had to assume that it was an act for the prisoner, but it was still fairly disturbing to witness.

"Which way?" Ian asked, ignoring everyone around him.

The man had long since lost his furious expression, and was watching Ian with horrified fear. He felt the muscles that had clamped his jaw shut ease, but didn't even think about shouting for help. He was certain that this cold-eyed man would kill him long before someone could find them.

"What do you want to know?" he asked, his voice cracking, even though it was barely more than a whisper.

OOOOOOOOOO

Major General Alan Hunt looked over the shoulder of the computer technician who was monitoring the Stargate operations.

"Any word from them, yet?"

The sergeant shook his head, but looked down and double-checked – just in case something had happened while he'd been away a few minutes before.

"Nothing, sir. Colonel Brooks and the others haven't checked in."

Hunt looked at his watch, checking it with the clock on the wall to make sure they were the same.

"Call in SG-4 and SG-9. Have them meet me in the briefing room in ten minutes."

"Yes, sir."

As the technician started making his calls, hunt walked out of the room toward his office.

Just in case, he told himself.


	18. 18

Several of the villagers gathered close to listen in, amazed to see one of their captors brought so low so quickly. Richard and the boy weren't surprised at all.

Ian ignored them all, intent on his prisoner – as was River, who was guarding him. Andrew looked over from the entrance to the smaller cave, but turned back to the night. It was Ian's job to get the information. It was Andrew's job to make sure no one found them.

Ian looked at the man in front of him.

"If you speak louder than I am right now, I'll take the information I want and then make you wish you were dead. Do you understand?"

The man nodded, fearfully.

"What's your name?"

"Wikne."

The voice was soft enough that most of those listening could barely hear him. Ian just nodded.

"Your people? What are they called?"

"The Corain."

"Why are they here?"

"Because of the stones…"

Ian frowned, his dark eyes narrowing dangerously as he realized through the tenuous connection that he shared with Wikne that the man was holding something back.

"And…?"

Wikne hesitated, saw the menace in Ian's eyes and spoke again.

"And the people here…"

"The _people_?" McKay asked, surprised. "What would you want with _them_?"

In typical fashion he'd managed to insult an entire race of people in a single sentence, but Ian didn't give the villagers a chance to even register the insult.

"What do you want with the people?"

"They have the ability to run our technology."

Which made Ian frown.

"What?"

"They can run our technology," he repeated, somehow managing to look furious and afraid at the same time.

"And _you_ can't?" McKay asked.

"No."

"McKay," Ian said, looking over at him. "How about you let _me_ ask the questions?"

"Sorry."

Ian turned back to his prisoner.

"You can't run your own technology?"

"Some of us can, but not many. And less are born with the ability every generation. So we were forced to seek out people who can."

Ian looked over at McKay, who was just as intrigued as he was.

"What kind of technology are you talking about?"

"How come you can't use it yourself?" Rodney asked at the same time.

Ian didn't even snap at him. Instead, he nodded, telling Wikne to answer the question.

"I do not have the blood," the man answered, almost defensively.

Which was a final clue.

"Is this _Ancient_ technology?" Ian asked.

Wikne hesitated, uncertainty in his expression.

"Answer him!" River snapped, startling several of the villagers.

"It's technology of the _Ancestors_," Wikne replied. "Some call them Ancients."

OOOOOOOOO

Cameron Mitchell, commanding officer of SG-9, frowned, looking at the paper in front of him.

"So Brooks hasn't checked in at all?"

Hunt shook his head.

"He's well overdue."

Major Emilio Dobbs, commanding officer of SG-4, was also frowning.

"It's not like Colonel Brooks to miss a check in."

"Agreed," Hunt said, nodding. "Which is why we're going assume the worst."

"He left in a cloaked _Gateship_," Cam said, frowning. "If they ran into trouble in one of those, we're not going to be able to do much better on foot."

"They might have just had an accident," Dobbs said, shrugging. "Maybe they couldn't check in because they couldn't get to the gate to dial in."

"We tried to dial in and contact them by radio," Hunt told them. "We didn't receive an answer."

"Which could just mean they're out of range of their radios," one of the lieutenants said.

"They're in a Gateship," Hunt reminded him. "There's no limit of range if they're on the planet."

"So something went wrong," Cam said, rubbing his face. "Hopefully it's something simple like equipment failure."

"But we'll count on it being something a bit more sinister," Dobbs added, causing all the people in the room to nod an agreement. They always hoped for the best but expected the worst.

"What are our options?" Mitchell asked. "If the people on this planet have the capabilities to knock out a Gateship, we're going to need something a bit more formidable than just ground troops to find our guys and bring them back."

Hunt nodded.

"I've already thought of that." He looked up when his aide knocked gently on the door to the briefing room, and waved him in. "Are they ready?"

The aide nodded.

"Waiting on your orders, sir."

"Who?" Cam asked.

"The _Cassandra_ has been recalled to Earth and is orbiting above us waiting for your teams to get suited up and ready."

There were soft murmurs all around the room – and more than one sounded impressed.

"How long will it take her to fly to P3X-95-A?" Mitchell asked.

"With the new drive? Three hours."

"And if the people on the planet have the technology to take her out as well?"

"Then we're in a lot of trouble," Hunt replied. "Get going."

"Yes, sir."

OOOOOOOO

Nathan Brooks walked into the Oval Office with a scowl. Nothing new, really, but Jack O'Neill could tell something was up by the intent expression. He leaned back in his chair and sighed.

"I'm having a pretty good day, you know…"

Nathan ignored that.

"Did you know that Hunt just called the _Cassandra_ back to Earth?"

"Ian's ship?"

"How many other Asgard ships are named _Cassandra_, Jack?"

O'Neill scowled.

"She's not _Asgard_. She's ours."

"Whatever. Did you know she was coming back?"

"Why would I know that, Nate?"

"Did Shawn say anything?"

Jack hesitated, thinking, and then shook his head.

"He might just be distracted…"

A pregnant wife can definitely be a distraction. Jack knew that as well as anyone.

"_Or_ something might be going on that we need to know about…"

O'Neill shook his head.

"Hunt can run the SGC just fine, Nate. You should know that better than anyone, since you're the one who picked him to replace you. If he needs for us to know something he'll call and let us know."

"I'm just-"

There was a gentle tap on the door, and one of the Secret Service agents popped her head in.

"Sir? General Hunt is on line two."


	19. 19

McKay frowned.

"So these guys are _Ancients_?" he asked, looking not at their prisoner, but at the villagers.

Ian shook his head.

"They're descendants of the Roanoke colony, McKay. I already told you that."

"But they can run Ancient technology…?"

"Why are you asking _me_?"

McKay made an annoyed sound.

"Check them."

"No. Chances are they just have the gene."

"How many of these people have the blood to run your technology?" Rodney asked Wikne.

The man scowled.

"Answer him," Ian said. "How many?"

"Most of them."

"How do you know?"

"We tested them."

Now the villagers were frowning.

"I have never seen them before, Ian Brooks," Richard said.

"What kind of tests?" Ian asked.

"Blood and tissue tests."

"But-"

Ian held up a hand to stop Richard.

"Explain."

There was a slight hesitation, but only a slight one. The man was still clearly afraid of him – or at least the technology he had, and the fact that he was more than willing to use it.

"We tested their dead."

McKay made a face.

"That's ghastly."

Ian agreed, but had to admit it was better than having them abduct people in the middle of the night and do tests on the living.

"What was the percentage?"

"Ninety-four."

"That's _insane_," McKay said, the pain in his leg forgotten in his own curiosity and interest. "We've only got a fraction of that, and our population is a lot bigger."

"They concentrate their blood rather than thinning it out, Rodney," Ian said, shrugging. It was the only explanation that he could think of. "They don't have the population we do, so they're breeding the gene true."

Wikne nodded, even though Ian hadn't made a question of it.

"Our scientists came to the same conclusion."

"How did you shoot down our ship?" Ian asked.

"It left an ionization trail in this world's atmosphere that we could track. Although we weren't positive it was really a flying machine at first. Some of us thought it must be an anomaly."

Hayden scowled.

"They don't leave trails anywhere else…"

"Don't take it so personally," Ian told him. It was actually a relief to know it was something like that, and not that they'd been able to see through the cloak. "How many people do you have on this planet?"

"Around one hundred."

"Your leader?"

_Now_ the man hesitated, and Ian twitched the technology holding him still to include freezing his lungs tight. Fear and horror permeated Wikne's eyes when he realized what was happening, and his face started turning pale and then blue. Ian gave him a full minute before he released the hold on him and allowed him to breathe again.

Gulping in air desperately, the man had tears in his eyes and despite the fury he felt at the mistreatment of the villagers, Ian was very much aware that he was pushing a fine line between interrogation and torture. It made him sick, but he hid it far better than he would have when he was younger.

"Where's your leader?"

"In one of the villages! The one to the south of here..."

Ian looked at Richard.

"Not yours?"

He shook his head.

"Do we go there, Ian?" River asked.

"Yeah. We need their leader. What's his name?"

Wikne's eyes widened in fear – of a completely different sort.

"I don't know."

He _didn't_, either, Ian could see – and it terrified him that he didn't because he was afraid Ian would think he was lying.

"What do you call him?" River asked, seeing the same fear Ian had.

"High Commander."

Ian looked over at Richard, who nodded.

"I have heard them refer to their leader as _High Commander_. I can also show you where this village is."

"In the _dark_?" River asked, skeptically.

Richard started to say something, but Ian shook his head. The village leader was old – and not in very good shape after who knew how many days of being abused by the men who'd been holding his people captive.

"We'll need someone else, Richard. I need you to stay here and guard my prisoner – and watch Doctor McKay."

"What?" McKay frowned. "I'm not staying. You _need_ me."

"You can't walk," Ian reminded him.

"Then fix me so I can."

"You should have been fixed a long time ago," River told him.

"Oh, ha ha."

Ian shook his head.

"I don't have the time or the energy to spare, McKay. You'll have to stay here. Try to find out what else you can learn about these guys…"

"I can't use that device," Rodney objected.

"You won't need it," Ian replied, sending a jolt to his prisoner that knocked him out cold – after he took a moment to brush against the man's conscious long enough to find out some basic information that he didn't have to dig too deeply for. He made sure Wikne was completely out before releasing him from the control of the device, and the man slumped to the floor of the little cave into a boneless heap.

"Did you kill him?" asked the younger Ian, watching wide-eyed and slightly fearful.

"No."

"You should have," Richard told him – and several of the men nodded their agreement.

"Make sure he's tied tightly," Ian ordered, standing up and sliding the device into his pocket once more. "And make sure you gag him."

"Are you leaving, then?" Richard asked.

Ian nodded.

"You'll have to guard the cave yourself, because I need Andrew and River, both, but McKay'll be here to help and-"

"I can't help if I can't _stand_."

"Figure out a way to be helpful," Ian told him.

"I can help you," the boy said, quietly, stepping forward and looking very young – and very afraid. "I know where the village is."

Ian hesitated. He'd actually planned to take someone older. Preferably someone at least old enough to shave. However, common sense told him that the boy was really his best chance. He'd managed to guide them _this_ far, after all, and he moved as quietly as anyone. If all else failed and things got hairy, he could hide him deep in one of those snake holes until the shooting stopped.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "It'll be dangerous."

He might have hoped that the warning made him change his mind, but young Ian lifted his chin and proved himself to be made of fairly sturdy stuff. Tired and dirty, but more than willing to do what he could, he nodded.

"I can help."

Ian looked at Richard, who shrugged.

"He's your miracle. Who else would you trust to guide you?"

"What does that mean?" River asked, confused.

Ian, however, had already figured it out, and scowled.

"Let's go."

The last thing he wanted to discuss was his last trip to this planet.

OOOOOOOOOO

"The SG teams are boarded, Colonel…"

The woman who sat in the command chair of the newest, fastest and deadliest space ship in the Earth's arsenal nodded.

"Set the shields and engage the drive, and then send word for them to join me in the mess so we can consider all our options."

"Aye, aye, Colonel."

Colonel Jennifer Hailey got up and gave the navigator and pilot both a quick glance as she left the bridge. She had guests to meet, and a rescue to plan.

OOOOOOOOOO

"So what do we know?" Shawn asked.

"Ian's late for check in and Hunt's sending _Cassandra_ after him – just to make sure he's okay."

"Do you think he is?"

Jack shrugged.

"I don't know any more than you do, son," he replied.

"They'd better hope he's okay," Nathan Brooks told them, leaning back in his chair and affecting a calm that he didn't come anywhere close to feeling.

There was a definite _or else_ in that statement, but Nate didn't bother to add it in. He didn't need to.


	20. 20

Moran was practically seething with impatience by the time one of his subordinates finally gave him an initial report at the destroyed cave site. The man came rushing over, dignity in front of his own men forgotten in light of the fact that the sub commander was pretty much hovering over his shoulder, waiting, and was deadly when he was angry.

"What did you find?" Moran asked him before he could even make the formal salute that was normally required.

"There was a great explosion, Sub Commander."

Moran looked at the rubble that had once been a fair-sized cave, incredulously.

"I can _see_ that, you fool. You wasted six hours to tell me _that_?"

"I meant that it wasn't an _accident_. It was deliberate. At least, we're pretty certain it was."

Moran's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Why do you say that?"

"It's the only thing that makes sense, Sub Commander," the man told him, deferentially. "Even if one of the slaves managed to find a metal tool to strike the walls with, it _couldn't_ have created more than a minor explosion. Certainly not one big enough to set off more explosions."

"So you believe it was intentional? One of the slaves found an explosive device of some type and destroyed the cave?"

"And themselves, yes." The man shrugged. "Although he probably didn't mean to blow himself and the others up. We haven't managed to move enough of the debris to piece together everything, yet."

Moran looked over at the cave remains once more and then back to his underling.

"The people we are searching for… Could _they_ have destroyed it?"

The man hesitated, and then shrugged again.

"They had a _flying craft_, I'm sure they could have had the means to destroy the cave, Sub Commander. Why would they want to kill the slaves, though?"

Moran scowled.

"Find out. _Now_."

He had reports of his own to deliver, and the High Commander wouldn't be so patient when it came to guessing. Moran needed facts.

OOOOOOOOOOO

There wasn't a trail from the cave that the villagers were hiding in to the village that young Ian was taking them to. Even if there _were_ such a trail, Ian wouldn't have taken it – not with the risk of a patrol of some sort possibly finding them.

The darkness was still hindering them, but it wasn't as bad as it had been; there was a certain knack to avoiding the snake holes, and the others were watching the boy, who was teaching them that knack without realizing it. They weren't as graceful as he was – and weren't as quiet as he was – but they were catching on. It made things a little easier, and they made better time in the dark than Ian could have hoped.

As the darkness was beginning to lighten just a little into a false dawn that promised to become true dawn in only an hour or so, Ian called them to a stop. They found a sheltered place that would keep them out of sight, and the spot was beside a stream that made enough noise with the water going over it that they were able to converse. While they did keep a sharp look out for anyone who might stumble upon them in the dark, they also had a quick snack of Power Bars.

"What are you planning on doing once we get to this village?" Andrew asked Ian, taking a drink from his canteen and looking at the stream, wondering if the water was clean enough to use it for a refill. "We can't just walk in and ask for the High Commander, after all…"

Ian nodded.

"I know."

"So what are we going to do?" Hayden asked.

"First we're going to check out the lay of the land," Ian told him. "Then we're-"

"It is flat," the boy said around a mouthful of food. "With some trees and the river that…" he trailed off, seeing that Ian and the others were giving him odd looks that varied from amused to chagrined. "What?"

"I meant we're going to gather some intel," Ian explained. "See where the leader is, see what kind of forces he has guarding him, what kind of vehicles… that kind of thing."

"Oh." The boy frowned. "Why didn't you ask the man in the cave?"

"Because he would have lied to us," Andrew said.

"Or it might have changed since the last time he was there," Ian added. "I want this information first hand."

River nodded, and looked at the glow in the dark hands on his watch.

"You realize we're way past check in… They're going to be looking for us – if they're not already."

Ian nodded.

"I just hope they haven't sent any ground troops in to look for us. As easily as they took us out, the search teams wouldn't have a chance against them – and I don't want any of our guys in their hands."

"Especially if they have the Ancient gene," Andrew said.

Several of their people had had the gene therapy given to them in order to make things on Atlantis work for them – or to be able to pilot the Gateships – and many of them had been transferred back to the SGC after their commitments in Atlantis were over. Several were now on SG teams.

"When we get the head honcho we'll be able to make sure they don't have any of our guys," River replied.

"What if they do?" the boy asked, following the conversation as well as he could and forgetting in his curiosity that he probably shouldn't have been eavesdropping.

"Then we make him give them back," Andrew said, not at all offended by the question – or by the fact that the child was listening in on them. He was part of things, after all, and had a right to be allowed to ask questions.

The boy looked surprised.

"Just like that?"

Ian shrugged and gathered up his pack, silently signaling that their rest was over.

"There are ways to convince him."


	21. 21

Using the Suppression device to hide their approach from any electronic monitoring, they made it to the village just as the sun was really beginning to rise. Dodging the snake holes wasn't all that hard, now that they could see, but the group would have preferred the dark for another couple of hours – if only for the cover they gained by it.

"There it is," the boy whispered, pointing, as soon as they reached an opening in the heavy brush they'd been struggling through.

Everyone looked the way he was pointing, and saw that he'd brought them to a perfect spot. The village in question was in a small river valley – the same river they'd been following for the entire evening – and was situated just a little below the small rise they were standing on. There was a collection of about thirty buildings; most of them single dwelling houses and shanties but a few slightly bigger – probably for community storage, or maybe for gatherings of some sort – and a small clearing in the forest to the west of the town where there had been some kind of garden, but which was now in ruins because several craft were parked in it, lined up with what could only be a military precision.

There were also at least a couple dozen heavily armed Corain (or Coranians?) walking through the village, or standing just outside one of the larger buildings. Chances were there were several more guarding the entrances to the village itself, or standing watch somewhere they could watch all approaches to the area.

"_That's_ got to be where the High Commander is," Andrew said, pointing out the largest building with all the guards.

Ian nodded his own agreement, pulling out his binoculars and taking a look. All the Corains looked to be male, and he recognized the whip weapons they carried, but noticed that they had holsters as well – even though they hadn't seen any sign of projectile weapons like the Berettas that Andrew and River were carrying, or the Glocks that Ian habitually wore.

"See the weapons?" he asked River.

The Californian nodded. They didn't look like anything he'd ever seen before – and he'd seen pretty much everything, he'd thought.

"Stunners, maybe?"

"Or laser weapons," Andrew pointed out.

Good point.

"Only way to be sure is to see them in action," Ian said.

"You volunteering?"

Brooks smiled, despite the deadly seriousness of the conversation.

"Any suggestions?" he asked them.

"We could dress up like villagers," Andrew said. "Walk right in…"

"Except I don't see any civilians out in the open…" River told them, still looking through his binoculars. "Only the bad guys."

"What's the range on that Ancient weapon you used on those guys in the cave?" Andrew asked Ian.

"About twenty feet, thirty feet – and I have to be able to see them."

"So no chance of just taking down the head honcho from out here, huh?"

Ian shook his head.

"Besides, I don't want him dead. Not yet, anyways."

"We can't get to him unless we go through all the guards…"

"No."

"So we try to draw them away with a diversion," River said, swinging his binoculars around to look at one of the other buildings.

Ian and Andrew both followed his gaze with their own, and Ian frowned when he realized what River had seen that he'd missed.

"They're storing the rocks in that building…"

There was obvious evidence that wheeled carts had been brought back and forth from the building they were all looking at to the field that the sleds were parked in. A trail of assorted chunks of the rock mined from the cave – and maybe other ones in the area – followed that rutted path.

"We could blow it," Andrew said. "But we'd have to make sure none of the indigenous people are being held there as well."

Ian shook his head.

"We can't blow the storage building," he told them. "The explosion would take out the whole village." He knew; he'd been in the last one.

"How about their ships, then?" River asked, gesturing to the craft that were parked so conveniently close to each other. "That'll bring them out, I bet."

And they could see that there weren't any people around to get caught in the blast.

"Want me to go do it?" Andrew volunteered.

Ian shook his head.

"We're going to have to stick together, to keep the Suppression device covering all of us. We'll all go, and find some safe place to stash Ian here."

The boy had been sitting up against a rock in a half-doze, taking advantage of the fact that they were done walking – at least for a while – but he jerked his head up at the sound of his name.

"I want to stay with _you_," he told them.

All three shook their heads.

"It's too dangerous," Ian told him. "You got us here safe. That was your job. Now we're going to make sure you stay safe. That's _my_ job."

"But-"

"Don't argue with me about this," Ian warned him, his expression unweilding. There was no way he was going to put the boy in the position to be hurt. He'd already risked him far more than he wanted to.

The youngster's argument wilted under that direct gaze, and he nodded silently. Andrew almost felt sorry for him. Except that he agreed with Ian completely.

"We'll find you a safe place," Andrew assured him. "And we'll come get you as soon as we can."

Before the boy could use his big brown eyes on them and get him to change his mind, Ian stood up, putting his binoculars away.

"Come on. And be quiet."

There was always a chance that there were guards in the forest, after all. Ian would have posted some, if he were the bad guy. There was no reason to expect that this High Commander was a fool – although that certainly would help things along if he was.


	22. Chapter 22

The _Cassandra_ wasn't a large craft. She wasn't designed to be. For that matter, the drive that made her the fastest thing ever seen – Asgard, Ancient, Goa'uld or otherwise – caused such a violent reaction to the hull of the ship that she had to have as little surface area as possible. Which meant that the crew contingent wasn't large, and there wasn't a lot of wasted space for privacy. Officers ate with enlisted personnel, and the crew – aside from the Commanding Officer – shared quarters with at least one person, and more often several.

But it was the best ship in the small fleet that Earth had, and her crew knew it. It made the cramped quarters worth it, and it made the utter lack of privacy bearable. So it was with a certain amount of justifiable pride that her Commanding Officer met with the two SG teams that she was transporting.

They met in her own private quarters – since it was the only place they could discuss the mission – but they were neat and almost Spartan, so there was room for all of them. As long as they didn't mind sitting on every available surface – including her bed and nightstand.

Cameron Mitchell took charge of the meeting from the beginning. Seated at the foot of her bed, he could see everyone in the room easily, and he stretched slightly before speaking.

"You know where we're going, obviously," he said to Colonel Hailey. "Did they tell you why we're going there?"

She nodded, leaning against the hatch that served as her door.

"Colonel Brooks is overdue a check in."

There was no sign of annoyance that they'd been sent on a mission to merely check in on the welfare of four guys – one of whom happened to be the Vice President's son. For one thing, she knew they would have been sent to look in on anyone who had gone missing in such a manner. For another, she was always willing to take the _Cassandra_ out for a mission. And finally, she happened to _like_ Colonel Brooks – although she doubted he knew it. He had chosen her for her command, turning over the ship he'd been designing for more than ten years, and she liked the fact that everyone thought he was an asshole – except those who actually _knew_ him.

She could relate.

Cam nodded.

"Our mission is to find out why."

"And if he's not on the planet?"

"Then we find out where he went."

They were hoping, of course, that they'd find him and his team on the planet. Maybe in trouble – maybe they crashed their gateship – but alive and waiting for a rescue that they had to know was coming. They didn't leave their people behind, after all.

Hailey nodded.

"So what do you have in mind?"

She knew Cam, also – although not as well as she knew Brooks. She was pretty sure he'd already have formed at least a partial plan in his mind before they even met to discuss options.

"I was thinking we drop out of hyperdrive, and-"

"_FFAS_ drive," Hailey corrected, automatically, with a slight smile.

"And you take a quick scan of the planet before anyone even realizes we're there," Mitchell continued, accepting the correction, but not using the term himself. He, personally, didn't think it was at all appropriate that someone – even someone as smart as Brooks – should name an entirely new drive system _fucking fast as shit_. So he didn't use the term – even abbreviated like it always was. "Depending on what we find, we beam down and get Brooks and the others and take them home."

"And if they're in trouble?"

"Then we help them get out of it."

She smiled.

"Sounds like a plan to me."

True to his nature, Ian Brooks had loaded the _Cassandra_ with weapons that were as advanced as everything else on the ship. There wasn't a lot out there that she couldn't handle. Which had been his intention, she knew. Especially once he'd decided on her name.

"How long until we arrive?"

"About another hour."

"Good."

That would give them time to get something to eat.

OOOOOOOOO

They found several guards in the forested area around the village. None of them ever saw what hit them, none survived to go back to report the strangers roaming around the woods, and none were there to watch as Ian found a safe (relatively safe) place to put the boy to keep him out of harm's way.

Not that he wanted to be, though, because he complained every chance he got.

"I _could_ help you…" he repeated, for about the hundredth time. Whispering because the first time he'd raised his voice had been the only time they'd almost been caught by one of the sentries.

None of them allowed him to argue with them. They'd heard everything he tried to tell them – and still knew it was safer for him to stay where he was. Whether he liked it or not.

"You stay here," Ian told him, handing the Suppression Device to him and looking as stern as he could – which was formidable. "And you keep hold of this thing. Understood?"

The boy nodded, unwilling to disobey – although he still desperately wanted to help.

Ian left him a canteen of water so he wouldn't get thirsty and go looking for something to drink, and a couple of Powerbars – for the same reason – and then led the others out of the heavy brush, careful not to leave any sign that they'd been there.

"Think he'll be okay?" Andrew asked, clearly worried.

"As long as he keeps still."

Ian wasn't worried. Not much, anyways.

"He has the device," River said. "He'll be all right."

That was the whole point of leaving it with him; to keep them from being able to find him. They'd already decided that they were going to be in the village – where the bad guys probably wouldn't be able to distinguish one person on their sensors from another – and they didn't need it as much as they needed the boy to be safe and out of mind for a while.

"Let's go," Ian said, heading towards the makeshift parking strip. "I want to blow their ships up before they have a chance to realize they're missing their sentries."

Andrew and River both fell into step behind him, each mentally tallying how many grenades they had and how much damage they could do with them.


	23. 23

With daylight came a chance to get a much better look at things around the ruins of the cave. Moran had waited for another report, knowing that this one would give him a better idea of what had happened – although he hadn't been patient about it, and the man who served as his aide was practically ready to jump out of his skin anytime anyone made a loud noise nearby.

Twice the High Commander – who was missing a night's sleep and not at all shy about complaining to Moran about it – had called for an update, and twice Moran had assured him he'd have a report as soon as he had something concrete to report. He didn't want to give the wrong conclusion and have to recant, after all. It would ruin his aura of certainty – and destroy his reputation for reliability.

"It was definitely sabotage," came the final report about an hour after the sun had risen above the hills in the distance. "Whoever did it, it wasn't the slaves – and I'm _certain_ it wasn't any of our own people."

Moran scowled. That meant only one thing – and the man who had reported to him knew as well as he did what that was. The strangers in the strange – and _destroyed_ ship – had been responsible. For some reason. Which meant that this fiasco could very easily be blamed on him. He had been given the task of finding the survivors of the crashed craft and he had failed. And now they had apparently been responsible for the destruction of the cave and the death of several of the slaves – as well as his own people.

"Have you found any evidence?"

The man shook his head.

"Just the way the debris fell and the extent of the destruction, Sub Commander. We know it was an explosive device; we just haven't managed to dig out any remains of it, yet. We will, though," he assured him, hastily.

"You do that." Moran wasn't really in any hurry to see that evidence, however. Not since he knew it would just make his guilt in the matter that much more blatant. "I expect a proper report when I return."

He turned and headed for his sled, with his aide hurrying behind. Neither asked where Moran was going; they both knew he was going to make a report to the High Commander – and they were both grateful that it wasn't them.

OOOOOOOO

"Want me to do the first one?" Andrew offered, pulling a grenade.

Ian couldn't help but smile. He knew Andrew wasn't necessarily offering because the approach to the clearing that served as a parking lot to the small fleet of craft was possibly dangerous. He was just hoping to be the one to blow something up.

"Go ahead," Ian said, looking around for anyone that might have escaped them on their way through the woods – or any new arrivals.

As Andrew stepped out into the open, however, River reached out and grabbed him by the back of his collar. He yanked the surprised man back into the cover of the trees just as they saw another one of the alien craft approaching from behind them. As they watched, it came in and hovered almost directly above them – causing all three to react by aiming their P90s up to it. It didn't fire on them, however. Instead it came in and landed in a spot on the far edge of the clearing – closest to the village.

A large man with a definite air of authority got out of the craft, followed by a smaller man who was obviously a subordinate of some sort. The two never even looked in their direction. Instead, they hurried into the village, meeting up with a couple of other people – who saluted the official looking one – and then led them into one of the buildings.

"We were right…" Andrew said, as all three of them noted the building was the same one they'd decided housed the High Commander.

Ian nodded his agreement, glad that River had better ears than he did and had heard the approach of the craft before Andrew had broken cover. That could have been a disaster.

"Think that was the High Commander himself?" Hayden asked.

Ian shrugged.

"If he isn't, then he's someone right up there with him… a deputy, maybe. If we're lucky, maybe we'll get more than one authority figure…"

He gestured for Andrew to continue what he'd been doing before they'd been stopped, and when he broke cover this time, the only thing that changed was that he was a little more cautious about what might be coming up around them.

OOOOOOOOOO

The High Commander hadn't slept the entire night – much to the vexation of his staff, which hadn't been allowed to sleep, either. Not that he had them doing anything in particular; it was just that when he was awake, they needed to be as well. Which meant that they were all red-eyed and weary, especially since all of them had had long days before the whole thing with the offworld strangers had begun – and now there were rumors that something had happened at the main cave site. Something serious enough to keep their boss awake and fuming. None complained about the lack of sleep, of course. For one thing, they were far better trained than that, and for another, all of them were well aware that it would have possibly been a death-warrant to do so, considering the mood that their High Commander was in.

The aide who opened the door for Moran and his own aide was one of the most efficient men on the planet just then, and one of the only men on the staff who didn't show any signs of weariness from being up all night. Of course, he thrived on late nights and lots of responsibilities – which was one of the things that made him a good aide. Good enough to be the right hand of such an important man.

He bowed low to the Sub Commander since his hand was holding the door and he couldn't salute.

"The High Commander is in the dining room, Sub Commander," the man told Moran with the confidence that comes with being irreplaceable to an important and powerful man. "He said for you to join him immediately."

Moran nodded, and went to the little room that was nowhere near grand enough to actually be called a dining room – it only held a small table that only seated twelve at one time, after all – and saluted stiffly to the High Commander, who was just finishing an early breakfast.

"What have you learned, Moran?" the man asked without acknowledging the salute.

"The clean up crew believes the accident might be the result of sabotage, High Commander."

"The slaves?"

Moran shook his head.

"There is no way the slaves could have blown up anything, High Commander. They didn't have the means to-"

"Then _who_?" The High Commander interrupted, annoyed.

"We think it could have been the people from the ship that was shot down yesterday, High Commander. The men we captured were tied, but it _is_ very likely that there were more we didn't find."

"Strangers who blew up their own companions?" The High Commander asked sarcastically. "You told me that the ones who had been captured were in the cave as well."

"It could have been a botched rescue…" Moran said, feeling foolish and hating that more than anything. He didn't have enough to go on, yet, but had no choice to give the little information he could.

"And the slaves in the cave?" the High Commander asked. "Did they kill them as well?"

"We haven't found any survivors – or tracks. But now that the sun is up we will be able to expand our search. My men have orders to find anyone who might be hiding in the vicinity."

"Good. I want more answers, Moran."

"Yes, High Commander, I-"

Whatever he was going to say was suddenly lost in the midst of an explosion that shook the house violently enough to make both men duck under the table in concern that the ceiling was going to collapse on them.

"Are you all right?" Moran asked automatically as they both stood up again, brushing fallen dirt off their uniforms.

_"Go find out what happened_!" The High Commander ordered, waving aside his aide who came rushing into the room as well.

"Yes, Hi-"

Another explosion rocked the building and Moran rushed outside to find out what was going on – fairly certain that he already knew, and hoping he was wrong.


	24. 24

Rodney McKay was having a lot of trouble staying awake. Part of it, he was sure, was that he hadn't had any sleep in far too long. The other part – the part that had him _worried_ – was that he was pretty sure he was going into shock of some kind. Not that he knew all that much about the symptoms, but he knew it wasn't all sleepiness. Not with the dull ache of his broken leg throbbing in time to his heartbeat, causing a headache that was making him wince every time he looked toward the entrance of the cave and the rising sun. He was chilled, despite the emergency blanket he'd pulled from his pack, and was so hungry that he actually felt like he was going to throw up.

Even worse, the men in the cave with him were chattering like a bunch of monkeys. Softly, it was true, and clearly worried about being found, but the noise was magnified by his headache and he had to bite down on his lip to keep from snapping at them.

_"Richard!"_

The voice was a hiss that was filled with fear. Enough fear that it snapped Rodney out of yet another restless doze. He opened his eyes and looked over at one of the villagers – a man who had been guarding the entrance of their little hideaway. At least, McKay thought he had been. He wasn't entirely certain who was who, really.

The village leader looked over from a conversation he was having with another man.

"What is it, Graham?"

McKay couldn't stop himself from once again being taken aback at hearing such a normal sounding name assigned to someone who looked like they'd just stepped out of some National Geographic special. He didn't mention it, though, because Graham was already speaking – and it wasn't good news at all.

"Some men are coming this direction," he said, softly. But not soft enough that most of those who were around him didn't hear it – and those who didn't knew something was up by the body language of those who did, which caused them to stop chattering and listen as well.

"Are you certain?" Richard asked. "They might just be following a similar path…"

He didn't sound very hopeful, though, and neither was McKay.

"They're coming the same way we did last night," Graham answered. "They must have found our tracks."

"I thought you guys covered them," McKay said.

"It was dark," Richard told him, a little defensively. "We could have missed some."

"We must have," Graham said, looking worried. "What do we do?"

They all turned to McKay, who frowned.

"What?"

"Ian Brooks left you in charge of our defense," Richard told him. "What should we do?"

"You're asking _me_?"

"We-"

"I'm an astrophysicist," McKay told them.

"We should fight them," one of the other men said before Rodney could say anything else. "The worst they can do-"

"Is kill you," McKay finished.

"Better to die fighting," Graham said, grimly. "Several men of _my_ village were killed outright – and they weren't doing anything to provoke these people…"

A couple of the others nodded their heads; clearly they'd seen such acts as well – and from the bleak expressions on their faces it wasn't something they'd ever forget. No matter how much they wanted to.

"You don't have any weapons," McKay told them.

"So we should give up?" Richard asked.

"I didn't say that." He looked at Graham. "How far away were they?"

The younger man hesitated, clearly thinking, and then shrugged uncertainly.

"Perhaps a half an hour…"

"Crap." That wouldn't give Ian and the others time to get back before their cave was discovered. Not even if they were in the vicinity – and McKay was fairly certain they weren't. "Help me to the entrance…"

He had to get a better look at things. He was, after all, the only one with a gun. For what good it would do, since he knew he was a terrible shot.

OOOOOOOOOO

The first explosion had been impressive – and designed to be more than just a distraction, Ian knew. Andrew's first target had been the sled that the important looking newcomer had arrived in; which had been left unattended and unguarded. The thing had gone up fairly easily, with only a well-placed grenade stashed into a crevice near what they'd all assumed was the power supply to cause the initial explosion. Before that one had even landed – in several hundred pieces all over the area – Andrew had already been ducked behind the next target, using it as a shield until the pieces stopped raining down on him. That one had blown up just as quickly, and when he finished off a third, he used the cover of the smoke and debris to make his escape back into the forested area to rejoin Ian and River, who had been covering him from their relatively safe distance.

"Come on," Ian said, tossing Andrew his pack and moving out before he had a chance to even put it on.

The other two followed him and they watched as men swarmed out of the building that they'd decided held the High Commander.

"It worked," River hissed, taking point and leading the way into the village. It only took them a few moments to sprint up to their targeted building, and when they arrived, they found that even those men guarding the entrance had been pulled away to look at the damage done – either by order, or because it was human nature to want to look at something like that.

"Of course it did," Ian told him. "My plans always work."

He didn't give them time to refute that. Instead, he gestured for Andrew to take the lead into the building, and he followed with River behind him. In one hand he held his Glock, in the other he held the device that had decimated the bad guys in the cave.

The building wasn't that big. Three rooms and an entrance way that would probably keep the cold winds of winter from freezing out those living in the house. The entrance way was deserted, as was the first room they looked into. As Andrew peeked his head into the second room, however, a movement caught his eye and he barely managed to duck his head back before a bolt of some kind of energy slammed into the wall beside where he'd been.

"_You! Stop!"_

The voice was harsh and the accent guttural.

"Got him," Ian said, stepping quickly past Andrew and into the doorway of the room. He had a chance to make sure of his target; a large man with a craggy face and a neatly trimmed goatee, before lifting his hand to trigger the device that would freeze him.

"_Guards!"_

The High Commander aimed his weapon at the dark-haired stranger in the doorway just as the man lifted his hand in some kind of odd gesture. The weapon fired and struck the stranger, and he staggered back and fell. Before the High Commander had a chance to feel any kind of satisfaction, another figure appeared in the doorway, stepping over his fallen comrade protectively and firing a weapon of his own. The energy blast took the High Commander full in the chest and he went down as hard as Ian had.

"Grab him!" River ordered Andrew, reaching down to pull Ian into a fireman's carry. Whatever had happened, they needed to get out of there, before the High Commander's men came running – if they weren't already.


	25. 25

Andrew grunted as he reached down and roughly pulled the High Commander onto his shoulder.

"Jesus…"

"You got him?" River asked, one hand securing his grip on Ian, the other holding his zat.

"He weighs a ton…"

"Trade me, then."

They didn't have time to waste, but it'd be a lot worse if they were slowed down because Andrew couldn't carry the guy. River knew he was stronger than Ian or Andrew, and he should have realized that the High Commander weighed more than Ian did. He _looked_ bigger, that was for sure.

Andrew unceremoniously dumped the leader of the invading group onto the ground and with much more care pulled Ian from River's shoulder and transferred him to his own.

"Got him?" Hayden asked as he scooped the High Commander up onto his shoulder.

"Yeah. I'll take point."

Andrew led the way out the door, stopping only long enough to make sure that the area was cleared. Apparently no one had heard the boss's call for help, because the way was clear as far as the window they'd decided was going to be their exit. It didn't hurt that the glass had been blown out of the frame by the sudden explosions, and it made things a lot quieter and a lot easier. He shoved Ian through, making sure he didn't land hard, and then followed and grabbed him up again, using his free hand to cover River while he escaped as well. Before the yelling had died down, the two men had carried their cargos back into the relative cover of the trees.

"Come on," River said, not stopping even though Andrew did. "They're going to notice he's missing fairly quickly…"

"They won't know it was us…"

He didn't argue, though. Not only because River outranked him, but because he knew he was right. They were grossly outnumbered and without Ian awake they couldn't pull the _Jedi Mind Trick_ on the High Commander.

He took off after Hayden, trying to make as little noise as possible and trying very hard not to Jar Ian any more than was necessary.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

"They're coming closer…"

"I can see that."

"What should we do?"

McKay gave a pained look that had nothing to do with his injuries.

"Do any of you have _anything_ that might be used as weapons?"

Richard hesitated.

"We have rocks…"

"Oh, well that's _perfect_. We can throw rocks at them while we're dodging bullets."

McKay's sarcasm was more frustration than anything – coupled with a fair amount of concern and fear – but he couldn't help himself. Before anyone could say anything, though, he sighed.

"Get as many as you can. You guys don't use slings, I suppose?"

One of the men nodded.

"I can."

Several others agreed.

"We don't have any, though, and nothing to make them with."

"What about cloth?" McKay only knew a little about the sling, but he'd actually read stories where a sling had turned out to be a fairly decent weapon in the right hands. He was grasping for straws, but was well aware that they needed anything they could get.

"I've never heard of a cloth sling be-"

"Will it _work_?" he interrupted.

"Maybe…"

"Do it."

They were all wearing shirts that could be sacrificed.

He heard a few of them scrambling to do what he'd said, and a couple more sorting through the rocks – presumably looking for stones to use in the makeshift slings.

"It won't be enough," Richard told him, watching with McKay as the squad of men advanced up the hilly trail leading to the small cave.

"I know."

It was better than nothing, though, and it gave them something to do besides pestering him.

OOOOOOOOOO

"Report."

Moran was slightly surprised that the High Commander himself hadn't yet appeared out in the field to view the damages the strangers had done to their small armada of sleds and shuttles. He was also extremely annoyed with himself that he hadn't even considered that someone might go after such a promising target. It made no difference that the population of the planet had been subdued. Once they knew there were other people moving freely in the area, he should have assumed they'd try for the vehicles.

The man reporting to him saluted, hurriedly.

"Four ships were destroyed, Sub Commander. Two more were damaged in secondary explosions and will require days to repair. The rest appear to be fine."

"Make sure there are no hidden devices," Moran ordered him. "I don't want to lose any more ships."

"Yes, Sub Commander."

The man turned and ran off, undoubtedly grateful that he hadn't had to make his report to the High Commander himself. Unfortunately, Moran thought with a sour expression, that meant that the unhappy task was left to him.

Not something to be put off, but certainly not something he was looking forward to. He turned on his heel and headed into the building, trying to figure out how to explain his own stupidity.


	26. 26

It took Moran almost half an hour to realize that the High Commander was missing. Not just gone, as he'd first assumed when he'd first entered the building to report the conditions in the landing field. Once he'd realized that his superior was actually missing, he'd called the High Commander's aides together to see if any of them had seen which direction he'd gone.

Unfortunately, neither of them had seen anything, both of them undisciplined enough to have been distracted from their main duty – the High Commander – and had rushed outside to see what had been blown up. The High Commander was simply gone.

"Are you certain he's gone, Sub Commander?" one of the aides asked, prompting a scowl from Moran.

"No, I assume he's gone off for a picnic, you dolt."

The man flushed, but Moran wasn't waiting for an apology or anything else.

"Do you have his tracking frequency?"

The other aid shook his head.

"The High Commander refused to submit to having one implanted, Sub Commander."

Moran scowled again. All his men were wearing transmitters in case they managed to get lost on the planet – especially with all the trees. The High Commander had ordered this precaution himself, and it was annoying to learn that he hadn't followed suit for his own personal safety. The Sub Commander turned to one of his lieutenants who had been hovering close at hand.

"I want search teams sent out in every direction. Bring in all our personnel to assist. The strangers must have him, and I want him back – in one piece."

"Yes, Sub Commander."

The lieutenant saluted and hurried away, and Moran turned back to the aides, who had been listening.

"It was a diversion?" the younger one asked. He was inexperienced, but far from stupid.

"Apparently."

Moran didn't say anything else. He was furious with himself for falling into such an obvious trap – even though he, himself, hadn't been the target. He should have known better. He left the room, and then the building, and joined his men looking for any sign of tracks that might tell them which direction the High Commander had been taken.

OOOOOOOOOO

The slings were shoddy at best – and unfortunately the best that they could come up with on short notice. McKay had the men who said they were proficient with the makeshift weapons spread out as well as he could while still keeping them out of the sight of the advancing scouting party. A group that was close enough now that he could make out individual characteristics and weapons. There were seven of them, and all of them were far better armed than his own pathetic group.

McKay himself was propped against a large rock, his P90 braced against the same rock for support that he simply didn't have the strength to give it on his own. Well aware that he was barely capable of hitting the broadside of a barn in the best of circumstances. Now, with his leg throbbing all the way up to his armpit and his heading pounding so hard he couldn't see straight, he was pretty much simply hoping he could avoid hitting the villagers as he tried to mow down the others.

The men tensed as they began to be able to hear the noises the searchers were making as they moved up the trail, but McKay shushed them with a motion and made sure the safety was off on the machine gun.

"Here they come…"

It was whispered more to himself than the others, and he closed his eyes, terrified but trying as hard as he could to control it.

The others put their first stones into their slings, arms tensed and ready to cast as soon as he started the ambush.

The men on the trail suddenly stopped, and McKay almost bit his lower lip in two thinking that they'd somehow figured out that there was a trap waiting for them. He debated whether or not to simply open fire and hope to hit as many as possible, but wasn't certain and wished – again – that Ian were there to make that decision.

"We _can't_ go back!" he heard one of them search party shout, obviously frustrated. "We're close! I know it!"

"The Sub Commander has given his orders…" another voice said, much calmer and clearly in charge. "We're to return to the village immediately."

"They killed our-"

"_We have our orders_!" the one in charge snapped, making McKay and several of the villagers flinch. "Move. Now."

As they watched in disbelief, the men on the trail turned and headed back down the hill, tripping occasionally in one of the snake holes and grumbling the entire way. McKay waited until he was certain they were out of range of hearing and then slid down the rock he'd been leaning against until he was seated on the dusty floor of the cave with the rock now against his back and the P90 across his lap.

"Oh, thank God…"

Richard and the others couldn't help but be impressed, even as they, too, relaxed a little. Miracles didn't come all that often, after all, and seeing one up close like they just had was awe inspiring.

OOOOOOOOOO

"I think we're in the clear…"

Andrew nodded and took the opportunity to set Ian down for a minute to check him out. River dropped the High Commander on the ground, securely tied his hands and feet and gagged him, and then joined him, watching for any sign of pursuit.

"How's he doing?"

"I think he's just been knocked out," Andrew replied, checking Ian's reflexes as well as he could. "He's breathing okay and his pulse is steady…"

"So much for his plans always working, eh?"

Andrew smiled.

"Part of it worked."

"Come on," River said, getting to his feet and going back over to the High Commander's inert body. "We need to get under cover and get him awake."

"The place we left the boy is as good a spot as any…"

River nodded.

"That's what I was thinking, too. Can you find it?"

"Of course."

"Lead the way, then…"


	27. 27

The zats apparently didn't pack as nasty a punch as the energy weapon that the High Commander had been carrying. Either that or the High Commander was made of sturdier stuff than Ian was, because their prisoner started struggling against his restraints before they reached the spot they'd left the boy. Luckily, the gag River had tied on him held and he wasn't able to call for help – although he was doing a lot of muffled threatening in River's ear – and he only dropped him once.

The younger Ian came out of hiding the moment he realized they were back, but he fell backwards as soon as he saw their captive, a look of horror in his eyes.

"What's wrong?" Andrew asked, setting Ian down carefully in some soft-looking grass.

"That man…" the boy said, his voice wavering.

"He can't hurt you," River assured him, dropping the High Commander into the dirt with a thud.

The boy didn't respond, but he didn't move any closer, either. Not even when River double checked the bonds and then tied the High Commander to a tree.

"Make _any_ noise and I'll make you wish you hadn't…"

The man's eyes were dark and they glittered with hate, but he didn't say anything.

Before Andrew could comment on that, a groan from the other side of the little hiding spot told them that Ian Brooks was finally beginning to shake off the blow from the stunner.

OOOOOOOOOO

"What do we do now?"

McKay looked over at Richard.

"We can't stay here. There's too much of a chance that they'll change their minds and come back."

"Ian Brooks told us to wait for him here…"

The astrophysicist rolled his eyes.

"Well, I'm sure he'll understand. It's not like we're going for a nature walk, after all. We need to-"

"What's a nature walk?" one of the men asked.

McKay made an impatient noise.

"Look, just help me up, okay? And find me something to use as a crutch."

OOOOOOOOOO

"Well?"

"No sign of any invaders, Sub Commander."

Moran scowled and pointed at the four still smoking wrecks that had been perfectly good sleds only an hour before.

"_I_ see a sign."

The man flushed.

"The area has been over run with our own people for the last three weeks, Sub Commander," he said, trying to explain himself. "We can't differentiate our own tracks, much less those of other people."

"What about different tread on their footwear?" Moran asked.

The man shook his head.

"We haven't seen any tracks, Sub-"

_"Then find some!"_

He was frustrated and concerned – after all, everything seemed to be going wrong just when everything had been going so well – and more than willing to take it out on someone else. Preferably a subordinate. Well, preferably those who had started this whole mess in the first place.

The men ran off, and he found himself standing alone. He debated going over and hovering over the men who were searching, but knew that he wasn't going to help anything get done any quicker if he did. His orders had been given, and he knew they would follow them. Instead he walked back into the building, looking for any clues that might tell him more about the people who had been foolish enough to do something so brash.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"Jesus…"

Ian sat up, his hand flat against the side of his head – which was throbbing.

Andrew knelt beside him and offered him a canteen.

"How do you feel?"

"Like shit." He took a long drink of water and then looked around. "We're back with the boy?"

"It was the best place we could think of."

River came over as well.

"How's the head?"

"It hurts like a-" he bit off the complaint and looked at their prisoner. "Has he told you anything?"

River shook his head.

"We were waiting for you."

"I thought you were going to knock him out yourself…" Andrew said, frowning.

"I tried."

"It didn't work? Or you weren't fast enough…?"

"I don't know. I think I was fast enough. Something wasn't right, though."

Luckily the device was still on his hand, so he looked down at it and frowned. It didn't look like it was broken or anything. He staggered to his feet, feeling a little light-headed, but better than he had only moments before, and walked over to the High Commander. With the device in his hand, he knelt down and raised his palm. The High Commander gave him a dirty look, but didn't even flinch away. Captive or not, he wasn't afraid. Ian knew they needed to change that, or they wouldn't have a chance in hell.

He activated the device he was holding, pointing it directly at the High Commander. There was a faint surge, but then nothing happened. Which was exactly how he remembered things happening the last time.

"It's not working," he told them – in Asgard.

"Why not?" River asked. "Did it get broken?"

Ian shook his head.

"It's fine. The difference is him."

"It worked on the guys in the cave," Andrew reminded him.

Ian frowned. That was true. Whatever it was, it wasn't a race thing, because the unlamented guards in the cave had gone up in an instant.

As if aware that things weren't going according to plan even though he didn't know what they were saying, the High Commander's expression turned smug and satisfied, and Ian scowled.

"Maybe it doesn't work on people with the Ancient gene?" River asked.

"It worked on the other guys," Andrew said – again.

"But they don't have a lot of people with the gene," Ian said, deciding that it was very possible River had figured out the problem. "Maybe the High Commander here just happens to be one."

"How do we check that?" Andrew asked.

"That's the easy part," Ian told him.

"How do we get information, then?" River asked.

Ian switched back to English, definitely wanting the prisoner to understand what he was saying.

"We'll just have to do things the hard way."


	28. 28

"I'm not afraid of you."

Ian wasn't impressed by the man's bravado – real or feigned. He'd had a pretty lousy couple of days, after all – and _his_ had been sugar coated compared to what the villagers had been putting up with for far longer.

"What's your name?"

"That's none of your concern."

Ian pulled his Glock and pointed it at the man's head.

"If you kill me, you won't learn anything…"

"Not to mention the shot will bring down his men all over us," Andrew added.

Ian scowled.

"You're the one in charge?"

Ask a question you already know the answer to, that was one of the first rules of interrogation.

"What do you care?" The High Commander sneered. "You're obviously not from here. Go back where you came from and I'll allow you to live."

Ian went from annoyed to furious with lightening speed. With the hand not holding the Glock, he slapped the man. Hard. Right across the mouth. The High Commander's head snapped back with the force of the blow, striking his head against the tree behind him. His sneered turned quickly to fury as he spit a mouthful of blood.

"You'll die for that."

Ian made a noise that was far from worried.

"If I had a dollar for every time someone told me that…"

River grinned.

Which, of course, made the High Commander even more furious. Which was the whole idea, really. No one who took themselves _that_ seriously liked to be mocked, and Ian was an expert at making someone feel or look foolish.

"So… you were telling me your name…?"

"Go to hell."

Ian slapped him again, just as hard – if not harder – and again the man's head snapped back.

"I can do this all day."

The High Commander sagged a bit in his bonds. The blows had truly been stunning considering they were open handed. He brought his head up almost immediately, however, furious with himself for the sign of weakness.

"So can I."

"Except that we have an audience…" Andrew reminded him – again in Asgard so the High Commander wouldn't know what he was saying. He was also careful to keep his tone hard and annoyed, when it was obvious to Ian and River that he was concerned or he wouldn't have brought it up.

Ian didn't turn around and look at the boy to give the topic of conversation away. As far as the High Commander was concerned, they were discussing how best to torture him further. Which Ian wasn't blood thirsty enough to do for long at any rate – although their prisoner didn't need to know _that_, of course.

"I'm open to suggestions…"

"I say we just kill him and then take out the rest of them," Andrew said. "They're bound to be unorganized without dipshit here. They probably wouldn't be that much of a challenge."

Ian shook his head.

"We can't be sure of that – and we're outnumbered a shitload to not many."

"We could take care of him and then start picking off the guys that are bound to be looking for us. Eventually we'll-"

"I'm not going to tell you anything," the High Commander said, clearly tired of not knowing what they were saying – and certain that they were discussing how best to kill him.

"Hey, Ian…" Andrew said, suddenly realizing something that they were all overlooking. The boy looked over, recognizing his name, and Andrew gave him a wave of apology. "Don't you have _another_ way of getting his attention…? Even if the device doesn't work on people with the Ancient gene, _you_ can still mess with their insides, can't you? You did with Shawn before and I know he has it…"

Ian looked at him, surprised – and a little chagrined that he hadn't considered that himself.

"Of course."

What had he been _thinking_? He turned back to the High Commander, and surprised the man by smiling.

"You're here to mine rock from the cave. I blew the shit out of the cave – and most of your men there while I was at it."

The High Commander scowled, but didn't agree with or deny the statement. Ian didn't give him a chance to wonder how he'd known that. Instead, he continued.

"You're also here looking for people with a certain gene. The gene that makes the Ancient technology – and _your_ technology – work. A gene you carry in your blood, and I assume that you intend to pass on to your offspring some day."

The scowl faded.

"Did you know the Ancients?" Ian asked him almost conversationally. "I knew one or two of them. I learned some things from them. Things that I'm going to bet you don't know. Like how to heal with a touch." He touched the High Commander's chin, and the split lip he'd given the man when he'd slapped him the first time healed in only a moment.

The High Commander jerked his head back from Ian's touch, looking as if he'd been burned.

Ian wrapped his hand around the man's throat, his grip plenty strong enough to keep the man still – from the neck up anyways – and his dark eyes cold and unreadable.

"One assumes that if a touch can heal, then a touch can _wound_ as well…"

The High Commander trembled, just a little, but it was a crack in the armor that hadn't been there before.

"Do you have children?" Ian asked.

"No…"

The voice was barely a whisper – but that was because of Ian's hand. Not fear.

"Do you ever _want_ to?"

The threat was implied, but it was there. And very real.

"Why are you doing this?" the High Commander asked around the grip on his throat. "They're just simple villagers. They don't mean anything to-"

"They're _our_ people, you piece of dogshit," Ian snapped, his hand tightening. "_Ours_. Not yours. And certainly not yours to do with as you wish."

"We need them," the High Commander squeaked. "Our people-"

_"Ian!"_

River had been keeping an eye on the surrounding area, even while he was listening to the conversation. He saw the last thing they needed to see. A group of searchers coming their way.

"How many?"

"A dozen."

Ian looked at the High Commander.

"Do you want to have children?"

He scowled, but knew that not answering would be foolish. Especially just then.

"Yes."

"Then keep your fucking mouth shut. Got it?"

There was another hesitation, but he nodded finally, and Ian released his throat. He looked over at Andrew.

"If he yells, shoot _him_ first. Got it?"

Andrew nodded.

"Come on, River…" Ian said, slinging his P90 over his shoulder. "We need to distract them."


	29. 29

"Where will we go?"

McKay leaned heavily on the crutch they'd found him – a pathetic stick that was going to poke right through his armpit at any moment – and looked around.

"You guys live here. Think of a spot."

"The villages will be unsafe," Richard said. "Especially Alan's." When he saw McKay's curious look he explained. "That is the village that Ian Brooks took your friends to."

"Then we can go the opposite direction," McKay told them. "The guys that almost found us were clearly sent for – probably because of something Colonel Brooks and the others did. We'll need to stay clear of any fallout from that until we hear from him."

"Can you not contact him?" Richard asked.

"I could," McKay said. "But I won't risk giving away his position. Just in case they're in a tight spot."

When none of them asked him any questions – and he really _did_ expect at least one of them to ask something stupid - he shrugged.

"Come on. Let's get going."

OOOOOOOOOOO

"You know… I'm a _fighter pilot_…"

Ian rolled his eyes and gestured for Hayden to be quiet – even though the only two men who were anywhere near them were sprawled in the brush twenty feet away, knocked unconscious and tied so tightly it'd take them several hours to manage to free themselves – if they even did.

He understood completely. Neither of them was really guerrilla trained, and they were doing a lot of creeping through territory that they didn't know any better than the guys they were hunting. However, they had the advantage of knowing where the people were they were hunting, and those guys didn't have a clue what was thinning their ranks so devastatingly. The element of surprise wasn't going to last much longer, so they were taking them out as quickly as possible – most of them with the zats, but a few more permanently – and the rest were beginning to gravitate their direction, leaving Andrew and the boy in a less threatening position.

Ian gestured for River to follow him, and they moved away from a small group of men who had managed to pick up their trail and were following them. Better to lead them away, really. Hayden sighed, and Ian knew he'd have been grumbling under his breath if not for the need for silence.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Moran looked up at the knock on the door. The man standing at the entrance wasn't his lieutenant. He wasn't even one of his lieutenant's lieutenants. He was simply the highest-ranking man that was left of those who had been brought to this miserable little world.

"Come in."

The man did so, hesitantly. It annoyed Moran, but he hid that as well as he could. It wasn't the man's fault that he was afraid. He'd never given a report to anyone of any rank before – and was only doing it now because those above him were either missing or confirmed dead. There was simply no one left.

"What have you found?"

"We… that is, some of the men who were coming in from the search around the destroyed cave have come across a large number of tracks. They think some of the slaves from the cave might have survived and gone into hiding."

"Did you tell them to track them down and recapture them?"

The man hesitated, and nodded.

"I- I wasn't sure if you wanted me to have anyone side-tracked from the search for the High Commander, but-"

"No. We need the slaves. You did well."

He wasn't usually so lavish with his praise and the man hadn't really done anything so amazing that he deserved it, but he was a good leader and understood well the needs of those below him. Time enough for the man to learn that being his lieutenant wasn't all roses and butterflies. For now he needed the job done.

The man flushed, both with relief and pleasure at the rare praise.

"Thank you, Sub Commander."

"How about the High Commander?"

"We haven't found him."

Moran scowled, but managed to keep from snapping.

"I assumed that. Any signs that might point to his whereabouts?"

For that matter, something to tell him whether the High Commander was even alive would be nice.

"Several of the teams that you sent out haven't checked in. We've checked some of their transmitters and they're not moving, but we can't tell if they're alive or dead."

It was clear he was hoping for some guidance in that area, and Moran nodded.

"Take a heavily armed squad and find them. Report immediately and let me know what you find."

The man hesitated once more.

"You… you ah, want me to take them out myself?"

Now Moran scowled, which was enough to make the man pale.

"Yes. Report to me as soon as you have anything relevant to tell me."

"Yes, Sub Commander."

The man saluted and hurried out the door, forgetting in his nervousness that he'd planned to tell the Sub Commander that of the men missing, two couldn't be traced with their transmitters. Which meant that something was either blocking the signal or they had had the things removed. Highly unlikely. Deciding that it wasn't important enough to be called relevant, he didn't return. Instead, he called to one of the men who was now one of his subordinates – but had been his best friend only a couple of days before – and ordered him to get a team together. A large team with a lot of weapons and their best tracker.

No sense going out into the woods without an army at his back, after all. And he definitely wanted that.


	30. 30

"We're fucked…"

The voice was the faintest whisper in Ian's ear, but he heard it just fine. For that matter, the thought had been buzzing in his own head, River had just spoken it aloud before he had.

"Not yet."

River snorted, softly, and the two of them watched as the large group of men made their way slowly but steadily toward the spot they were hiding. Even worse, another group – not as large – was heading their way from a different direction. There was a rock wall behind them, and the only place they had to go was back the way they'd come – which wasn't going to happen since that would put Andrew and the boy in danger.

"_I'm_ seeing a rock and a hard place. What about you?"

"Yeah."

"You're going to have to kill them."

"Yeah."

It wasn't what they wanted to do – aside from the guys in the cave, Ian had been _trying_ very hard to keep the fatalities low – but they couldn't use the guerilla tactics with the large group coming up, and they didn't have time to try them on the small group also coming their direction.

He looked around for the best possible ambush sight, but there really wasn't a lot of time to set one up – and he only had Hayden, so he hardly had an ambushing team handy. River pointed towards the larger group silently, and Ian nodded his agreement just as quietly. The larger group was blocking the way they wanted to go. It was also the greater threat, really.

River gave him a questioning look that Ian knew was meant to ask if he wanted help. He shook his head and motioned for him to simply cover him. Then he moved silently in the heavy brush until he was between River and the larger group, and waited until they were within range. He raised his hand, triggering the Ancient device and wondering belatedly if any of the guys in that group were carrying the Ancient gene and would be immune to the effects of the device.

By then, however, they were already starting to die. Imploding with sickening noises that Ian knew he'd never be able to forget, the men in front started literally falling to pieces around their comrades. He heard a high-pitched scream of terror, and aimed for the man who appeared to be leading the large group – a man that was no more military than Rodney McKay, really.

Shouts and sudden shots from behind him told him that the smaller group had gained ground on them far more quickly than he or River had expected, and River was holding them back to give him as much time to finish things as he could. Ian cursed when the man he was aiming at failed to die, but instead of interrupting what he was doing in order to shoot him with his Glock, he simply aimed at one of the men beside him, deciding that the man wasn't that much of a threat compared to those around him. He hadn't even been carrying a weapon as near as the New Yorker could tell.

OOOOOOOOO

"Are you _certain_ we should be moving?"

McKay nodded, his free arm coming up to wipe the sweat from his face while he shifted all his weight to the other arm. The one that was holding the crutch that was keeping him on his feet. More or less.

"I'm not Daniel Boone, but even _I_ could see the tracks you guys left last night. If I can, then you better believe that the bad guys can, too. Hopefully Colonel Brooks and Major Hayden are distracting them, but we can't count on it. There are too many of them."

Richard nodded his own agreement, causing the villager who had questioned him to shrug his acceptance of the explanation. He offered Rodney a drink from one of the few canteens they had and McKay accepted it gratefully, drinking down water that he surely would normally have turned his nose up at only a few days before. Right now, however, he was tired, hurt and boiling under what was really a mild sun to the rest of them.

"This place is littered with small caves," Richard said to the men around them, also taking a break from their forced hike. "We're sure to find a safer place to hide until we know what has happened to-"

"They're coming!"

One of the men who had been walking well behind the main group came running up, panting and breathless, but more than able to gasp out the urgent message.

"How far?" Richard asked before McKay had a chance to.

"Less than a half hour from us."

Richard looked at McKay, who was staring down the path they'd come, seeing the footprints all over again, and well aware that there simply wasn't any place for them to go.

"Crap."

"How many?" Richard asked, calmly.

"Five. Maybe a couple more I didn't see."

Richard looked over to McKay.

"Do we run or fight?"

McKay frowned.

"As much as I'd love to say run, I'm not going to be able to do that, now am I?" he asked, gesturing to the crutch. "Get the men with their slings into position, will you?" He gestured for the man who had offered to carry his P90 to bring it over. "And make sure they're not _anywhere_ close to being in front of me – or even beside me, okay?"

Looking a little confused and a lot worried, Richard nodded and moved quickly to position their second line of defense. The first being McKay.

Which should have had him looking a lot more worried, if only he'd known.

OOOOOOOOO

_"Sub Commander! Sub Commander! We're being attacked! We're being-"_

Moran reached for his communications device as he headed out the door of the building he'd been in. The frantic call of his lieutenant had brought him to his feet far more quickly than his aides had been able to match, and both of them were hurrying after him.

"What is your position?" he asked, once he'd realized that the man hadn't been referring to an attack on the village – which he'd almost expected once the High Commander had been abducted. He snapped his fingers at one of his aides, telling him to get him a map, and sent the other one after the device that tracked the transponders in the men. They'd definitely need to know where to go to send the rescue.

_"We're- Oh, no!"_

There was a definite note of real panic in the voice of his lieutenant, and Moran wondered what the man was seeing that had him so afraid.

"Where are you??" He asked again, snapping, and hoping that the fury of his question would pierce the terror.

_"Just outside the-"_

He was interrupted by the sound of several loud reports, gunshots – although they weren't familiar with that type of weapon.

"We're losing men all over the place," one of his aides said, rushing over with the monitoring device in his hand. The man's face was pale and his eyes wide. "They're being _decimated_, Sub Commander."

Moran snatched the device from his aide's hand and stared at it in shock for a long moment, unable to believe what he was seeing. What could be killing his men so swiftly? There couldn't be that many people on the loose. They would have been found by the patrols.

"Sub Commander…" the aide was clearly waiting for orders, and Moran was brought from his thoughts abruptly.

"Have the men take sleds," he ordered. "Fully armed and armored, and I want these men _dead_. Do you understand? Don't bring me prisoners. Bring me corpses!"

The aide saluted and rushed off to find the remaining military commanders and pilots to pass on the orders, while the other aide arrived with the map they needed to locate their people. Where their people were, after all, Moran knew, so would be the ones who were killing them.


	31. 31

"Oh, God…"

Rodney McKay just couldn't believe the position he'd found himself in. Less than three hundred yards from his position were five men. Five men who were almost _certainly_ going to try and hurt him and the men he was trying to protect. Men who had – or were at least associated with men who had – captured him and Andrew, and had enslaved what could have been the entire population of the planet as far as he knew. If they weren't going to try and kill them, they were _probably_ just going to kill them all, maybe to make an example, maybe in retaliation for the deaths of those men who had been in the cave than Ian had blown up. Even worse, they might be planning some kind of really gruesome torture – a _public_ one, even – just to make sure no one tried to revolt again. And no one tried to help them revolt.

Whatever the case, he knew they weren't going to invite him and the villagers to Sunday dinner.

The best defense to keep anything bad from happening to them was to make sure these men who were approaching didn't have a chance to do anything bad to them. And with the odds so much in their favor – even if the numbers favored the villagers and McKay – they had to rely on surprise and ambush.

And it was the whole ambush part that had McKay so terrified.

He was going to kill a man in cold blood. Five of them to be exact. If he could, anyway. He wasn't the best shot in the world. Not in _any_ world, really – except for the world he was on right now, because of the group he was with, _he_ was the only one with a gun. The slings wouldn't do that much to protect them, and McKay knew that, despite that he'd tried to make it sound like they had half a chance. It was up to him. And he wasn't all that sure he could do it.

"You _have_ to…" he muttered to himself, trembling with more than just the pain from his leg as he raised the P90 into position. "There's no one else…"

He closed his eyes without realizing it, and pulled the trigger.

OOOOOOOOO

It was River who first noticed their danger. Not surprising, really, since Ian was definitely distracted.

"Ian! We've got incoming!"

His shout was barely heard over the sudden whine of several engines roaring above them, and the shadows darkened the scene around them briefly as the sleds converged on their position from out of nowhere it seemed.

Brooks looked up, and grabbed for his P90, knowing he wasn't close enough to the sleds to use the Ancient device – assuming it would even work.

"Come on!"

The large force of men that had blocked their way was decimated – _literally_ – and only one shell-shocked man stood on the path as they rushed down it, heading for the cover of the trees below them and leaping over the snake holes with dangerous haste. Recognizing him as the one that the device hadn't worked on, Ian simply shouldered him aside, knocking him tail over teakettle out of their way. The man went down without a sound, but even if he'd made one, they wouldn't have been able to hear it.

Energy bolts were suddenly hitting all around them, throwing up dirt and rocks and shattering brush and trees. Many of the stone fragments were as dangerous as any bullet, and the two of them were blinded by a blizzard of rock dust and a flurry of painful strikes as they ran.

River missed a jump on one of the snake holes and tripped, but Ian was right there when he did, his machine gun firing into the sky above them to try and distract their attackers while his friend regained his stride. An explosion close by shattered a boulder the size of a gateship and the force knocked both of them into the brush on the side of the trail.

"I _told_ you we were fucked," River complained as he rolled over onto his back, wincing when he jarred what had to be a dozen broken ribs.

Ian grunted and rolled over as well, firing his P90 into the bottom of the sled that was now hovering right over them, clearly trying to see if they were dead. The ship shuddered and started smoking, and moved off quickly, making room for others.

"Shit."

River opened up as well, his P90 firing at the closest target, which turned to get a better angle of fire at them with its forward weapon. Both men dodged in separate directions as the weapon fired, and the spot that they'd been vanished into a crater.

Pain seared down Ian's back as he was tossed aside, and if not for the fact that he landed on his back, he never would have seen what happened next. Not that he was all that sure it was happening when he saw it.

The sled closest to him exploded. _He_ hadn't been shooting at it – his P90 had been flung in another direction completely – and there was silence from River's direction so Ian was pretty sure _he_ hadn't been shooting at it, either. Before he could wrap his mind around that, another one of the sleds exploded, raining down fiery debris that he had no way of dodging as bad as he hurt. The three remaining ships detonated almost simultaneously, but this time Ian was almost sure he'd seen something coming from the sky to blow them up. He felt the force of the last explosion against his face and ducked his head, but not quickly enough. Something hit him just behind the ear, and he saw stars, a bright light, and then everything went dark.

OOOOOOOOO

The P90 jumped in his hands. Not enough to throw off his aim – they didn't have a terrible kick and he'd been firing them long enough that he was prepared for the recoil – but it was enough that he opened his eyes to make sure of his next target. The man in front of him went down in a spray of red, but he forced himself to not think about that and moved onto the man who'd been walking beside the first one. This one, too, was mowed down by the weapons fire, but when he aimed at the next one, the three men left had all vanished into the brush with surprised shouts of alarm.

"You killed two," Richard said in his ear.

McKay looked over in time to see the older man gesturing for the men with slings to be prepared.

"There's _more_ out there," Rodney told him. "Just because-"

A bolt of energy slammed into him, striking him in the chest and knocking him off his feet. It was an amazing shot, but one that he couldn't appreciate since he'd been on the receiving end.

Richard dodged to the side, reaching for the gun that had been knocked out of McKay's hand, but another bolt of energy forced him back. The men with the slings all let loose, and there was a sudden yelp of pain as one of the stones connected with a target. More energy bolts followed, cutting through the trees that they were relying on for protection. Two of the villagers fell backwards, stunned, and McKay groaned and tried to roll over, yelping when he hit his broken leg.

"We must get out of here!" Richard told him, kneeling beside him to help him.

McKay waved him off.

_"Go!"_

He'd never be able to get away, but that wasn't any reason to make them _all_ get recaptured with him.

"But-"

Richard didn't have a chance to say anything else. Machine guns started firing from behind them, and McKay snapped his head up, wondering how the hell Ian had managed to get around behind them when he had figured that he was at least a couple of miles away – and probably a _lot_ further than that.

"Get down!" a voice shouted. One that McKay didn't recognize. The machine guns fired again, and the villagers all ducked down, flattening themselves as much as they could on the rocky ground.

McKay didn't. He was looking for the source of the voice, and still jumped when someone came rushing up to him and threw herself down beside him and Richard.

"Doctor McKay, I presume?"

She was incredibly young, and carried the P90 in her hand as easily as if it was an extension of her arm. He looked around as a full squad of Marines rushed past their position, guns blazing now that the friendlies were out of the line of fire and McKay jerked his head back to the woman beside him.

"Yes. Who- who are you?"

"Sergeant Emily Smith, sir. Of SG-4."

McKay gave a sigh of relief and allowed his head to droop back to the ground.

"Oh, thank God…"

She smiled, reassuringly, and then got back to business.

"Can you walk, sir?"

"No."

Not a chance.

"Then we'll wait here. Just keep your head down."

This last was said to him and Richard both, but she needn't have worried. Rodney couldn't have moved if he wanted to just then.


	32. 32

_"We found them."_

Jennifer Hailey couldn't see Cameron Mitchell's expression over the radio, but she could easily hear the concern in his voice.

"Injuries?"

_"Some. We could use a medic."_

She gestured to her XO and he nodded.

"We'll send a medical team to your location, Colonel."

_"Send one to Dobb's location, too. He's got McKay and a group of indigenous people with multiple injuries."_

"Roger that."

This time it only required a glance in the direction of her XO, and again the man nodded. Luckily, Hailey required everyone of her crew to have advanced medical training. This wasn't the first time such a requirement had come in handy.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"Colonel Brooks?"

The voice didn't wake him, but the pain in his head when they moved him did. His eyes opened and he found himself looking up into the very worried face of someone who he thought looked familiar, but whose name he didn't know. Which meant that they'd never met, but chances were he was associated with the SGC. A good thing, really. But there were other things to worry about more.

"Hayden?"

The man smiled, probably thinking he was being reassuring.

"Major Hayden is being seen to, sir."

Ian sat up, and it hurt. Not so badly that he had to lie back down, though.

"Is he all right?"

"Broken bones and a blow to the head. He should be fine."

Since the guy had a medical insignia on his collar and he wasn't trying to keep him flat on his back, Ian figured he wasn't too badly off. He looked around, and found several guys that he did know all standing in a protective manner around him, P90s out and pointed, but clearly no targets to be seen since they weren't shooting anything.

"Colonel Brooks," Cameron Mitchell said, coming over and squatting down beside him. His casual manner wasn't completely genuine, however, since Ian knew he was watching for any sign of a trap or something else that might threaten his team. "You look like _shit_."

Ian nodded.

"How did you guys know?"

"That you needed help?"

"Yeah."

"You missed check in," the doctor told him, working on the gash behind his ear with something that was stinging far worse than the wound itself. "When the Vice President's son comes up missing, they take note."

Ian scowled and moved his head away from the man, not liking the way he'd phrased it – even though he probably hadn't meant anything by it. He put his hand out to Mitchell, who helped him easily to his feet.

"You sure you should be up?" he asked.

The world spun for a minute, but righted itself.

"He _shouldn't_ be," the medic said, frowning.

"I've got things to do. Go take care of Hayden."

He'd do it himself, but he really _did_ have things to do – and he needed to be on his feet for them.

The medic frowned, but didn't argue. Although he did hope – in a very small, and secret piece of himself – that the Colonel would fall on his face just then. When it didn't happen immediately, he simply turned and headed over to assist with the Major, who was unconscious and wouldn't be such a jerk.

"How did you break through at the gate?" Ian asked, certain that there had to have been a hell of a firefight that he'd missed.

"We didn't," Mitchell told him. "We flew here. In the _Cassandra_."

That surprised Ian, but _did_ explain why he didn't recognize the medic. He didn't dwell on it, though.

"Rodney McKay is hiding out with some villagers in a small cave just to the-"

"We found McKay," Mitchell interrupted. "He wasn't hiding, he was in the middle of a firefight in the open."

"Really? Is he all right?"

"Broken leg."

"Any casualties to the villagers?"

"I don't know. Sorry." He hesitated. "We can't find Andrew Stephens, though. He was with you right?"

Ian frowned.

"Yeah." He rubbed the area around his right ear – which felt like it was going to fall off any minute, although it probably wasn't _that_ bad. He couldn't remember exactly where Andrew _was_ and that really bothered him. "He's…"

"We can't track his transponder…" Mitchell added, noting the dazed expression and hoping to jar something loose.

Then Ian remembered why, and was annoyed with himself for forgetting.

"He's got their High Commander. We need to get going."

There was no way Andrew could have missed the explosions, but hopefully he would have stayed put and not run the risk of running into a stray patrol of invaders. They probably wouldn't be in the most forgiving of moods just then.

Colonel Mitchell gestured for his team to get ready to go, and the security team from the _Cassandra_ moved in to take up protective positions around their medics.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"You okay?" Andrew asked, checking the boy carefully for any signs of injury.

Eyes wide, Ian Brooks nodded, his face managing to be pale and green at the same time.

Andrew understood completely. He was feeling pretty green himself, just then. It wasn't every day that pieces of a destroyed craft came raining down on you, after all. Even worse when those pieces killed someone who had been sitting less than five feet away.

The High Commander had been the only injury, though. Andrew had seen the explosion that destroyed the ship and had known that they were in the path of the blast. He'd managed to cover Ian with his own body, offering some protection with his Kevlar vest. There hadn't been time to do anything for the High Commander, though. Tied as he'd been, he hadn't even been able to dodge the plate-sized fragment that had hit him in the chest and killed him instantly.

Andrew found a few minor cuts, but nothing too serious on the boy, and took hold of his chin, forcing him to look away from the dead man.

"We're going to move. Okay?"

The boy nodded.

"Stay close to me."

Another nod.

Poor kid was going to need a ton of counseling by the time this whole mess was over, Andrew decided, checking the action on his P90 and heading toward the direction of the gunshots he'd heard earlier. Obviously the cavalry had come. It was just a matter of finding them.


	33. 33

When Smith returned to check on McKay and Richard, she was flanked by her commanding officer and a man with a medical insignia on his collar. McKay set his P90 aside with a relieved and pained sigh, and relaxed just a little.

"How did you manage to find me?"

"Your subcutaneous transmitter," Smith said, guarding as the medic knelt down beside him to check out his leg. "This is my CO, Lt. Colonel Dobbs."

McKay nodded a greeting, yelping when the medic touched his leg.

"How did you get past the gate?"

"We didn't use it," Dobbs said. "We came in _Cassandra_."

"_Cassandra's_ here?" McKay said, surprised and hopeful both.

"Who is this Cassandra?" Richard asked, not missing the inflection in McKay's voice, but uncertain how one woman could help them.

"Not a _who_," McKay said. "A _what_." He grunted when the medic removed the weaker vine ropes that were holding his splint on, and replaced them with an air cast. It was a lot more secure, but it hurt like mad. "She's a ship. A _space_ ship. One that has enough firepower and technology that your people should be able to get your villages back soon."

Richard looked over at Dobbs, but the colonel wasn't exactly sure what the situation on the planet was, so he wasn't about to make a promise that he might not be able to keep.

"We need to get you back to the ship and have your leg looked after," he said instead.

"No," McKay replied. "What you _need_ to do is find Colonel Brooks and the others and get them-"

"Colonel Mitchell's team has already located Colonel Brooks and Major Hayden. They're going to be okay. We're going to check out your indigenous people here and make sure they're not hurt, and then get you back to the ship."

"And _then_ what?" McKay asked, looking at Richard.

"I haven't heard, yet," Dobbs replied.

"We have to get the Corains off this planet – and make them not want to come back."

"That's not my decision to make, doctor," Dobbs told him. He gestured for the medic to help McKay to his feet, and before he could make any kind of reply to that, Dobbs called the _Cassandra_. An instant later, McKay was gone – and Richard and those who witnessed it all jerked backwards in fear.

"Relax," Dobbs said, holding up his hands to try and calm them down. He hadn't actually considered just how beaming McKay might have looked to the people gathered around or he would have prepared them for it. He just hadn't wanted to have to argue with McKay about their next move. "He's fine. Just up there."

He pointed to the sky, and all the men looked up as well.

"Heaven?"

OOOOOOOOO

The place that Ian had left Andrew and the boy was deserted – aside from the almost skewered corpse of the High Commander. It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened, but Ian was still concerned to find the place empty.

"Shit."

"You sure this is the place you left them?" Cam asked.

Ian nodded.

"Yeah."

"We'll have _Cassandra_ keep looking for them…"

"It's not going to do any good," Ian told him – again. "He's got my Suppression Device. I can't override it, and there's no way even the _Cassandra's_ sensors are going to be able to find them."

"They have to be in the area," one of the others said. "We can shout for him."

"And hope there's no more of the Corain around here?" Ian asked. "Not likely."

"What do you suggest, then?" Cam asked, with just a bit of annoyance that he hadn't even stopped to consider the idea before discarding it. It hadn't been that bad of a plan, really.

"How many more-"

"_Ian?"_

The voice over his radio was McKay's, and Ian frowned.

"McKay? Where are you?"

"_Up on the _Cassandra." The astrophysicist sounded annoyed for some reason, but Ian didn't ask why. Nor did he get a chance to. "_You need to be aware that there are several non indigenous life forms in your general area."_

"What? Are any of them Andrew?"

"_Not that we can tell. He's probably still using your Suppression device to hide from the Corain, so chances are we're not going to be able to-"_

"Find him," Ian finished. "Yeah, I know. You're on the _Cassandra_ bridge?"

"_Yes."_

"Have them find all the Corain in all the villages and round them up for me."

"_Where are we supposed to put them, Colonel?"_

The voice was Jennifer Hailey, and she sounded a bit annoyed that McKay had taken over her airwaves. In fact, she probably _was_ – and justifiably so – but Ian didn't have time to soothe ruffled feathers. Even though he _did_ like her.

Ian looked over at Mitchell.

"Where are the majority of your men?"

"_With McKay's group – or rather, with the group that was McKay's group. Dobbs sent him up to _Cassandra_ to have his leg checked."_

And had obviously decided he was needed. Whether he was or not.

"Give us a chance to get there, and then have them beamed to that location when I give you the word," Ian told her. "While you're at it, have McKay configure the sensors so that they don't get to take any weapons with them."

"_Yeah, I can do that,"_ Rodney said, absently.

"I know. Get it done."

Ian turned to Mitchell.

"Let's get over there."

OOOOOOOO

Andrew Stephens actually stumbled over the man hiding in the brush. He tripped with a muffle curse, and jerked around with his Beretta in his hand when he realized what it was he'd found.

The man raised his hands; his face pale and flecked with blood from several small cuts and his hands burned.

"Please don't hurt me!"

Andrew stepped up, his free hand moving the boy so he was standing behind him and away from any possible trick. His gun never wavered from the stranger, though.

"Let me see your weapon…"

The man shook his head, clearly frightened.

"I lost it."

"Keep your hands in the air and turn around, facing away from me," Andrew ordered.

The man did what he was told, and Andrew stepped closer, reaching into his vest with his free hand and getting a nylon tie. It was really for emergencies and not securing a prisoner, but it'd work, he knew from experience.

"Don't make any sudden moves," he warned as he reached up for the man's right hand. He'd seen enough episodes of COPS to know the procedure, even if it wasn't something he'd ever had to do.

When he had the man firmly tied, he turned him around and pushed him just enough to make him fall onto his butt in the rich loam that covered the ground where they were.

The man yelped as he went down, but didn't offer any resistance. Andrew almost felt like a bully. Until he looked over at the young boy who was still crouched down where he'd left him, and remembered what these people had done to him and his own. Then he only felt angry.

"Who are you?"

"Etas."

Which told him nothing.

"Your rank?"

"Assistant Engineer."

Andrew frowned. Assistant Engineer was hardly an infantry ranking – as far as he knew. Of course, it was entirely possible that his people did things differently than where Andrew was from, so who knew?

"Your role in this?"

Etas looked around and shook his head.

"I'm the highest ranking person the Sub Commander had to lead the team. He told me to find the missing men from our search parties and bring him a report."

"Then what happened?"

"We were attacked. My men were killed horribly…"

He certainly looked shell-shocked, and pale and sick. But he could have been acting, Andrew knew.

"Where is the Sub Commander?"

"In the village… maybe. He might be looking for us."

His tone made that sound doubtful, however. Andrew doubted it, too. If the guy had any brains at all, he'd be hunkered down trying to fortify his position. Andrew was tempted to have Etas take him to the Sub Commander, but common sense told him that he was out gunned and out manned – and he had the boy to watch after. Besides, if Etas had lost that many men – and the Sub Commander had lost so many men that he was reduced to handing guns to engineers – whoever had come to help was probably doing a bang up job of things and could handle the rest of the Corains as well. He should just sit back and wait for them to find him.

Only they hadn't yet, and he had a subcutaneous transmitter if any of his people were looking for him.

"We'll wait here for a while," he said, his weapon trained on the man in case it was a trap. He'd have to hope Ian and the others found the body of the High Commander and understood why they moved. Assuming (optimistically) that they were still alive, that was.


	34. 34

"Have the patrols checked in yet?"

The High Commander's aide – now Moran's aide for the time being – shook his head.

"Not yet, Sub Commander. Would you like me to call for a report?"

"No."

It was beneath anyone above the rank of Under Commander to be bothered with calling for reports. Subordinates checked in with their betters, not the other way around. The aide knew this, he was either very concerned about his master, or unhappy about the way Moran had taken over the High Commander's office – sparse as it was – and his desk without seeming to even bat an eye. Chances were, Moran decided, it was a bit of both. He didn't say anything, however. He had far more important things to worry about than one insolent subordinate.

The sensors on the High Commander's desk were starting to wail at him with warnings of explosions in the skies only a short distance from the village he was in. Explosions that almost certainly bore the tell tale signs of having once been his few remaining sleds.

Something was destroying the search and destroy patrols, and the fact that he couldn't find the source of that something could only be a bad sign.

"I want the High Commander's sled readied," Moran finally said, looking at the readouts from the device on the High Commander's desk once more.

"Are you certain it's safe for you to go-"

"Get the High Commander's sled ready or you'll be working next to the slaves before the sun sets!"

The aide paled, then reddened and then paled again. Then he saluted.

"Yes, Sub Commander."

He turned and hurried out of the room, hoping that whatever was shooting down the sleds wouldn't even hesitate to shoot at the Sub Commander's as well. Even as he was thinking that, he suddenly felt the oddest sensation that he was melting. Before he could cry out in alarm, he had vanished from the room.

OOOOOOOOOOO

He hadn't really planned on walking all the way back to the place where Dobbs' team had found McKay and his villagers. For one thing, it'd take too long, and for another there was a risk that they'd lose some of their men (and women) to injuries from the snake holes. They didn't have enough people to risk, and they didn't have a lot of time to spare. Especially if someone had managed to find Andrew and take him and the boy prisoner. Unlikely, but you never knew, really, and Ian was always one to consider every possibility.

Instead, they had McKay use the beaming technology on Cassandra to move them, and he and the others materialized in a small pack just to the North of where Dobbs and his group were still checking the villagers for injuries and bandaging those that they found. Ian and Mitchell walked into the clearing they were using with the small band of Marines behind them, and the villagers surrounded him immediately, all trying to talk to him at once.

"McKay is in heaven!" Richard told him without even a greeting.

Alarmed, Ian looked over at Dobbs, who rolled his eyes.

"They saw him beam up to _Cassandra_, and won't believe me when I tell them that he's fine."

"He is gone, Ian Brooks," Richard said, looking guilty and mournful. "Surely _you_ can bring him back. We did not mean for him to sustain injury trying to help us."

Ian shook his head.

"He's not dead, Richard. I just spoke with him. He's up on a ship having his leg taken care of."

"But-"

"Look, I'll explain it to you later." Ian had a lot more patience than he did when he was younger, but he didn't have a lot of time to try and make any of them understand. "Right now, I need you all to move out of the clearing, here, and stand to the side out of the way…"

As he was speaking, all the members of the rescue teams were forming a circle around the clearing with their guns ready.

Richard looked concerned.

"What is happening?"

"We're going to bring all the Corain to this spot – without weapons – so we can deal with them all at once."

"You're going to kill them?"

There was a murmur of approval from some of the villagers assembled there, but many others looked alarmed.

Ian shook his head.

"We're not going to mow down unarmed men," he said. "But we're not going to allow them to stay here."

"How will you make them leave?" one of the others asked.

"We'll make them understand that they're not welcomed here," Cam said. "And assure them that if need be, we'll fight them to keep them away."

"And you think this will work?" Richard asked Ian.

"I hope so."

"And if it doesn't?" the same man asked before Richard could reply.

"Then we'll do it the hard way," Dobbs said.

Ian nodded his agreement, and gestured for the men to move out of the clearing and into the relative cover of the trees and brush. He knew the Corain wouldn't have weapons, but that didn't mean they might not try to fight, and he wanted the Villagers out of the way. They'd had enough problems lately and didn't need to risk any more of their people unnecessarily.

Once he was certain they were all out of harm's way, he tapped the communications device in his ear.

"Bring 'em to us, McKay."

_"Roger. Beaming them… now…"_

A moment later the entire clearing was filled with men. Startled men who suddenly found themselves torn away from whatever they'd been doing – everything from guarding prisoners to search patrols and one poor guy who'd been in the middle of nature's call and found himself suddenly thrust into the middle of a clearing with a whole lot of people around him.

Even more importantly, however, wearing far more decorations than the others and a thunderous expression that plainly told the group he wasn't used to being treated in such a fashion, was Moran.

He recovered from the shock of being in one place one moment and another completely different place only an instant later, and then stepped in front of his men, easily recognizing the aura of command that came from Ian and Cam.

"You _dare_?!"

Neither Mitchell nor Ian backed down from him. Both were more than used to people trying to threaten them and both had faced far worse than the angry man in front of them.

"Oh yeah," Cam said, nodding his head and visibly suppressing a smirk. They were outnumbered by the Corain, that was true, but they definitely had the advantage. Whether this man knew it or not. "We dare."


	35. 35

Moran looked about ready to explode, but he was Sub Commander for a reason, and managed to calm himself enough to speak far more quickly than Ian might have been able to in similar situations.

"Who are you?"

Cam looked over to Ian, who correctly took the look to mean that Mitchell was going to allow him the lead in this.

"Colonel Ian Brooks. You?"

"I am the Sub Commander for this expedition."

"You're _trespassing_, Sub Commander," Ian told him.

Moran made a point of looking around – and taking his eyes off his enemy in what was obviously designed to be an insult.

"We saw no markers."

_"We did not invite you here!"_ Richard snapped, unable to be quiet in the face of this sneering man who had terrorized not only his people, but also many others on his planet.

"_We_ do not _require_ invitations."

"You make a habit of making slaves out of people and stealing that which doesn't belong to you?" Ian asked, pointedly.

"We take what we need," Moran told him.

"You picked the wrong place."

"The people here are clearly not your own," Moran said. "Why do you care?"

"Because you're wrong," Ian said. "They _are_ our people. They're a colony of our people, and by invading their planet, you've declared war."

"You abducted our High Commander! _That_ is an act of war, also."

The men behind him murmured in agreement – and surprise. Many of them didn't realize the High Commander was gone.

"You killed my son!" Richard snapped.

"And my brother," one of the other villagers added.

"And my-"

"They are _peasants_," Moran snapped. "Slaves, no more than that."

"We are free men," Richard told him, standing taller, his anger making him far more impressive than his dirty face and ragged clothing attested to. "You are not welcomed here. Leave while you still live."

Ian was forced to smother a smile at the declaration. Especially since he knew Richard didn't have the wherewithal to back up the ultimatum. Of course, Ian and the Earthlings did, and Richard knew that they would back him up. Hadn't they already proven it when they'd rounded up the invaders and brought them here – away from the villages they'd taken over?

Moran took a threatening step towards the leader of the village, but Cam worked the action on the P90 he was holding. The sound echoed throughout the clearing, and Moran stopped.

"Enough." Cam pointed his weapon at the Sub Commander, who paled – although it was from fury and not fear, Cam knew. The problem was, he was in front of all his men, and Cam had a feeling they weren't going to get anywhere while the man was posturing to keep his pride from being damaged. "You… come with us."

Moran sneered.

"And if I refuse your _invitation_?"

Cam looked at the Marine on his right. "Bring him."

The Marine nodded, but before he could make a move, Moran spoke up.

"Fine. But if you try anything, my men will kill you."

Since his men included one guy who was still trying to pull his pants up, none of the Marines were all that worried – although they did come to a more attentive posture all around. Just to prove they weren't pansies.

Cam just turned his back and headed out of the clearing. After a moment Moran followed, and Ian was right behind him.

OOOOOOOOOOO

It was the boy who heard the noise first. Of course, it was his planet and he was more used to the noises that belonged – and those that didn't – so it wasn't that much of a surprise. Andrew noticed him stiffen and look to his right, and he was on his feet with his weapon already pointed in that direction when the first person walked into the small hidey-hole. And promptly put up his hands when he saw Andrew.

"Easy, sir…" he said, relaxing only when Andrew lowered the gun.

"Where did you come from?" Andrew asked, surprised.

"The _Cassandra_, sir."

"The _Cassandra's_ here?"

The Marine nodded.

"We've gathered all the Corain into one location and-"

"Colonel Brooks?"

"He's fine, as far as I know. So is Major Hayden. Just a bit battered. Are you all right, sir?"

Now he was looking at Andrew's prisoner and at the boy, who was dirty, tired and scared.

Andrew looked over, too, and gave the boy a reassuring smile.

"We're fine. I need to get to Colonel Brooks."

He'd need to know about the High Commander being killed.

"You need to turn off the Suppression Device, and then we can beam you over."

Andrew frowned, and then realized what he meant. No wonder they hadn't been discovered by anyone – including their own people.

"How did you find us?"

"McKay managed to do something to bypass the Device." The Marine shrugged with a wry expression. "You'd have to ask him, because I don't have a clue."

"Not that he didn't try to let us all know," another voice added as another Marine walked into the clearing.

Andrew grinned, more relief than amusement, but a grin nonetheless. Which was enough to make the boy relax just a little – although their prisoner didn't enjoy the same relief. He looked more afraid than ever. Andrew didn't care.

"I bet he did. Let's get going."


	36. 36

The Sub Commander tried to look regal and impressive as they walked. He tried to make it seem as if he wasn't concerned about being alone with two of the enemy by walking straight and tall. And promptly tripped in one of the snake holes because he refused to watch his feet. He scrambled to his feet, unhurt – luckily – and scowled at the amused expression on both of the others' faces.

"Where are you _taking_ me?" he asked abruptly.

"Away from your men so you'll listen to reason," Mitchell told him.

"You're wasting your time," Moran replied. "_I_ am not the leader of the expedition, merely the second in command. You will have to discuss your lies and threats with the High Commander."

"Your High Commander is dead," a voice said from behind them.

All three whirled and found Andrew behind them looking as dirty and tired as Ian, but very much alive and well.

"What? You killed him?"

Andrew shook his head.

"He was struck by one of your ships when it crashed."

Ian didn't doubt for a minute that that was what had happened. Andrew wouldn't have lied about it if he'd been forced for some reason to kill the High Commander.

Moran looked shaken by this news, but recovered quickly.

"So you say…"

Andrew shrugged.

"Want to see the body? I could have it brought here."

"Even if what you say is true, it is still _your_ fault he is dead. If you hadn't taken him from-"

"It's _his_ fault he's dead," Ian interrupted. "If you hadn't come here in the first place, this wouldn't have happened."

"We-"

Cam held up his hand to interrupt him.

"You're the leader of these men, now. So lead them. You're not wanted here, and you're incredibly outnumbered. Enough so that we can make sure none of you make it home. Is that what they teach you wherever you're from? To face overwhelming odds and lose all your men just because you're too proud to admit you've bitten off more than you can chew?"

"We _will_ win," Ian added. "And no matter what you bring at us, we'll keep you from ever setting foot on this planet again."

"You think you can take on the might of the Corain empire?" Moran sneered.

Cam nodded.

"Pretty much."

He was pretty sure Ian Brooks wouldn't have made the assurance that they could keep them from returning if he didn't already have something in mind. Undoubtedly something incredibly potent, knowing him and the technology he had available to them.

Moran lost the sneer at the calm assurance, and forced himself to think past the fury he felt at the treatment he was receiving. Treatment he hadn't received since he was very young.

Unfortunately, the three men in front of him looked certain that they were holding the upper hand, and truthfully he was fairly sure they were. Despite all their own technology, they didn't have any way to move a person from one spot to another so quickly – and certainly not an entire army, small though it was. The fact that these people had was unnerving, especially since the men had been scattered throughout all the villages in the area.

They had the upper hand, now, but he had other technology available, once he returned to their homeworld and told his superiors what had happened. Surely they wouldn't allow this to go unanswered. And they'd almost _definitely_ put him in command of the return trip. Would probably promote _him_ to High Commander as well. Then he'd show these people the mistake they'd made – and punish them soundly for the humiliation of this temporary defeat.

"My men?"

"What about them?"

"They will be allowed to leave?"

Mitchell nodded.

"We don't want them."

"_And_ the ore we've already mined?"

Ian shook his head.

"Not a chance in hell. It's not yours, and from what I understand, _you_ didn't mine it, the people of this world did."

"They have no use for it."

"Then you should have come as a trading delegation and _asked_ them for it," Ian snapped.

"We _need_ it," Moran told him. "Our-"

"You want it that badly, I suggest you figure out a way to kiss some serious ass, because I can't see any of these people just handing it over to you and wishing you best of luck."

"We'll help them find some use for it," Cam assured Moran with a slight smile. One that was designed to infuriate. "I'm sure they can-"

_"It's ours!"_

"Are you leaving or not?" Ian asked, putting an end to that particular discussion.

Moran pulled his fury in once more, and Andrew was impressed that he managed to do it. He doubted Ian would have been able to under similar circumstances.

"We're leaving. Take me back to my men."

"With pleasure…"

Cam gestured for Andrew to do the honors, and gave Ian a glance that plainly said he wanted to talk alone. They waited for Moran to turn and head back, with Andrew following closely, covering him with a zat, and then Cam turned to Ian.

"You realize we've pretty much just declared war with these people?"

Ian nodded.

"If they're dumb enough to try to come back, yes."

"They will. He's pretty pissed."

"Yeah. But they won't even make it into orbit – and certainly won't make it through the gate."

"You have something in mind?"

"Yeah. A couple things."

"You'll need to explain yourself to the Homeworld Defense people."

"Nope. Just to Jack. He's the one I answer to."

And Cam knew that O'Neill would go along with Ian over this. It was the right thing to do, after all.

Although…

"Why are you going to so much trouble for these people…?" he asked. "I mean, we don't really know them _that_ well, right? They're nice enough, from what I can see, but worth going to war over?"

"They're our people," Ian told him, turning and heading back, but going slowly enough that Mitchell knew he was willing to finish the conversation. "They were taken from North America – from the states, really – and that makes them our responsibility."

Cam thought about that for a moment while they walked, but decided there had to be more to it.

"And you like them."

Ian scowled.

"I didn't say that."

At that moment, they broke through the brush into the clearing, and Ian was suddenly rushed by the little boy, his thin arms wrapping around his waist and holding him tightly in relief.

Cam smirked, but Ian chose to ignore it.


	37. 37

"Are you all right?" Ian asked the boy, checking him carefully for any sign that he might have been hurt even as he asked the question.

"Yes."

He was dirty, had a number of scratches and his shirt and pants were ripped in a few places, but he didn't seem to be injured. At least not where it could be noticed. His gaze was older, however, and no longer as childish as Ian was sure it had been only a couple of months before. There wasn't much he could do about that, though. He could heal a body, but had very little to add when it came to healing the soul. What the boy needed most were his loved ones, not his namesake.

"We need to get _you_ back to your folks," he said, resting his hand on his shoulder as they continued walking behind the Sub Commander and Andrew. He turned to Mitchell. "I'd like you to see personally that every one of the Corain are off this planet in an hour."

Cam nodded.

"I'll have _Cassandra_ help us with that."

They could round up anyone who might have escaped detection the first time – although it was doubtful anyone had.

"Good. I'm going to have them beam the villagers back to their villages as soon as we get them checked over."

"There are probably going to be some injured that we'll need to take care of," Andrew added.

"We'll make sure they're all healthy before we go – and take the most serious of the injured back to the SGC if we need to."

"Unless they don't want to go," Ian reminded them.

"Of course."

The people of this planet had been forced to endure enough; they certainly didn't need to add to their ordeal.

While Mitchell separated himself from the others to call _Cassandra_ and get them up to date on what was going on, Ian found Richard and walked with the old man, talking to the various men who were gathered together and dividing them all by which village they were from and whether or not they were injured too badly to return immediately.

Of the injured, most were simply dehydrated, underfed, and carried festering sores that came from being injured in the cave and not having proper medical treatment for those cuts and scrapes. The medics that joined Ian and Andrew administered antibiotics and canteens filled with good, fresh water. Coupled with Power bars and granola bars, these did wonders for the immediate health of many of the men, and no one was willing to be left behind when they started beaming people back to their homes.

A small group of soldiers went with each group; mainly to make an assessment of what kind of assistance each village would need so they could start requesting supplies from the SGC, but also to make sure that there were no lingering traps of any sort that might injure one of the indigenous people. The Corain were a vicious people, that was for sure, and Cam and Ian weren't going to take any chances with what might be.

Once Richard vanished, with an assurance from Ian that he'd be by shortly to check on the people of his village, Ian looked down at the boy, and at the small group of men who were left.

"Ready?"

The youngster nodded eagerly, even though the thought of vanishing into mid-air had to be a daunting one to someone so young and inexperienced with such things.

"Yes."

He'd mentioned that his mother had been hurt when he'd come looking for help, so Ian was going along with him to make sure Sabrina wasn't so badly injured that she wouldn't be able to look after her son. Ian had told Andrew it was because he didn't want to have the responsibility of looking after the boy himself, but Andrew had given him a knowing grin and had simply nodded. Seven Marines were assigned to join them, and the eighteen men from Allen's village all looked around nervously, waiting to vanish as so many of the others already had.

"_Cassandra_? This is Brooks. We're ready."

_"Roger, Colonel Brooks. We're beaming you…_ now_."_

They didn't have time to feel anything before the scenery in front of them changed from the clearing they'd been in to the center of a fair-sized village. A large group of people were gathered around the edge of what was almost certainly some kind of outdoor market, and there were shouts of alarm as the men appeared from out of nowhere it seemed.

The shouts turned to excited murmuring and yelling when they were recognized, but one high-pitched call drew the attention of both man and boy.

_"Ian!"_

Both of them turned just in time to see a woman in a tattered dress scrambling towards them at an odd, fast limp. Her beautiful face was dirty and far more lined than it once had been, but Ian had no trouble recognizing the woman he'd met more than ten years ago. She reached them and dropped down to the ground in front of them, catching her son in a hard embrace that he returned just as fiercely.

"Mother…"

Ian suddenly had to clear his throat as he turned to the Marines he'd brought with him.

"Lieutenant? Set up a triage area. Have all the villagers come here if they need assistance, and if they have anyone missing."

"Aye, aye, sir."

He turned to round up his men and get things started, and Ian heard a low cry of dismay coming from behind him and turned back to the boy and his mother. It was hard to distinguish happy tears from sad tears, but there was no mistaking the shock in the boy's expression.

"What is it?" he asked, more to Sabrina than to her son.

"My father's dead," Ian told him, tears streaming down his dirty cheeks.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"Did they find all of them?"

"As far as we can tell they did."

McKay scowled.

"Well, make _sure_, okay? We don't want anyone hanging back and being left behind."

Jennifer Hailey's scowl was an easy match for McKay's.

"I assure you, doctor, I know what I'm doing."

"_You're_ not the one doing the scanning, though," McKay pointed out, reasonably – at least, he thought he was being reasonable. "Your people are – and they're probably missing a boatload of bad guys."

"We're not missing anyone," Hailey told him, her expression clearly warning him not to continue the present line of conversation. McKay, of course, ignored the warning completely – and probably hadn't even seen it.

"I _could_ help," he offered, ignoring the looks that her crew was sending his way. He'd been ignoring them ever since he'd insisted on coming to the bridge in the first place. "I've been slogging around on that planet for days. I know it like the back of my hand."

"We appreciate that, doctor," Hailey said, trying very hard to rein in her annoyance. "But-"

"Do you want the job done right?" McKay asked. "Because if you're willing to settle for half-assed, then you're welcomed to do it yourself. I, on the other hand, can-"

"Will someone please help Doctor McKay to the infirmary?" she asked, interrupting before he could really build up a head of steam.

There was a mad scramble as everyone in the area rushed to volunteer.


	38. 38

Ian frowned, looking over at Sabrina, who also had tears in her eyes – although there was also relief at finding her son, whom she'd almost certainly thought lost as well.

"What? Joshua?" he asked. "How?"

"The strangers," she said simply, holding her son tightly, and then using her hold to cover his ears to muffle what she said next. "He was killed for standing up to them. _Many_ of the men were…"

There was a bleak tone in her voice that made him automatically put his hand on her shoulder, and when he touched her, she broke down into terrible sobs, holding her son even closer while mourning her lost husband. The Ian of ten years ago would have withdrawn immediately from the scene, more concerned about staying away from something so uncomfortable. Ian _now_, however, was aware just how much good a touch could do when someone needed it – and it was clear she did.

His hand tightened on her shoulder, not painfully, just enough to tell her he was there, and he almost automatically checked her out for injuries that might need his help. She was going to need to be strong for her son, and he'd noticed the limp earlier.

A badly strained hip and bruises that were bone deep were healed quickly and quietly, And the half-healed dislocated shoulder was easy enough to take care of without her even realizing he was doing anything. Clearly she'd suffered a lot of abuse from her captors – although he was relieved that there hadn't been anything more nefarious done to her as near as he could tell.

_And_ that check revealed something that actually caused him to pull his hand away in surprise, before he replaced it a moment later and checked on the baby she was carrying – a baby that was so tiny and undeveloped that he wondered if she even knew she was pregnant.

Sabrina didn't notice anything; she simply rocked her son softly as they both sobbed, until the boy fell asleep against her, simply too tired to keep his eyes open any longer. When he was asleep, she pulled herself together with a visible effort and looked up at Ian.

"How did you know?"

She didn't seem surprised to see him.

"Your son." He didn't say anything more just then, he simply reached down and scooped the boy up into his arms, careful to keep him asleep for a while longer. "Where can we put him out of the way?"

A place with a bed and blankets would have been preferable, but he would have taken any place soft just then.

She rose to her feet, and seemed startled that her leg was no longer hurting her. She flashed him a look that he tried to ignore, and then motioned for him to follow her.

"Our house was one that was burned, but my sister's is still intact."

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Moran was the last of his men to leave the planet. He did so under the watchful eye of _Cassandra's_ entire security force – along with the teams led by Mitchell and Dobbs. All the Marines held their weapons trained on the Corain as they headed through the gate, and they trudged through with more relief than anything – probably grateful to have escaped with their lives.

Moran wasn't so grateful.

"You'll pay for this," he promised as the last of his men preceded him through the stargate.

"Don't come back," Cam warned him.

Moran simply sneered and turned his back on them, walking up the slight dirt hill that served as a ramp for the gate. He vanished a moment later, and the stargate shut down.

Dobbs shook his head as the Marines all stood down, ready to turn their efforts to relief and not rescue.

"Think he'll be back?"

"I'm sure of it."

"How do we keep these people safe? Does Ian have a plan?"

"I'd bet he does." Cam gestured for his men to head back to the small group of villagers who'd watched their captors leave. "But even if he doesn't we'll figure out something to keep these people safe. They're our responsibility, after all."

Since Dobbs already knew the story behind the ancestors of the people on the planet, he nodded, and then turned and went to rejoin his men. They had a lot to do before they could leave, after all, and he wanted to be ready when they started bringing in supplies for these people.

OOOOOOOOO

The house wasn't in the best of shape, but the beds all had blankets and Sabrina's sister was ecstatic to see her missing nephew was alive and well. She took the boy from Ian's arms and hustled him to bed, while Ian was given the short version of events from Sabrina and her brother in law.

He left the house about half an hour later, and found Andrew and River both in the village waiting for him.

"How's he doing?" River asked as Ian went to join them.

"He's asleep. What about the Corain?"

"They're gone," Andrew said. "As of about ten minutes ago."

"Good. You guys are in charge of making sure Mitchell and Dobbs have everything they need. I'll be back in a bit."

"Where are _you_ going?"

"I need to talk with General Hunt and Jack."

He tapped the communicator in his ear and called the Cassandra for a quick beam over to the gate, and was gone before they even had a chance to ask him what he was up to. River shrugged, and turned to the men who were talking to some of the men of the village. They had enough to do without worrying about what Ian was up to.

OOOOOOOOO

"He's gating back to Earth?"

"That's what I heard."

"Well, why can't _I_ go, too?"

"You can go once I get you stabilized."

"I'm stable."

The medic rolled his eyes, and ignored McKay's last comment. _He_ didn't think the guy was stable at all.

"Just hold still, doctor. This won't hurt – much."

"That's what you guys _always_ say," McKay told him. "It's never true, tho- _OW_!"

The medic just rolled his eyes again.


	39. 39

The gateship was cloaked, but Ian could feel the difference in air pressure as it landed close by where he was standing. The fact that he knew exactly where it was supposed to be landing helped, too, so he wasn't surprised at all when it suddenly appeared out of thin air.

The rear hatch opened as he walked around behind the craft, and a small delegation of Secret Service agents walked down, clearly watching for any sign of a threat to their charge.

Right behind them came a gangly half-grown black puppy, his eyes bright with excitement and his hide gleaming with good health. The lab gave a cheerful bark and rushed up to Ian, clearly happy to see him, and Ian smiled and reached down to ruffle his ears.

"Hey, Big Man. How was the flight?"

Murray didn't answer, of course, but it didn't matter to Ian. He was just happy to see the puppy – and to see that he was getting big enough that he was almost certainly going to be a match for his daddy.

"Colonel…" the voice from the ramp of the gateship drew Ian's attention from the lab, and he looked up to see Jack standing at the top of the ramp. "You _do_ realize that I'm the President of the United States, right? You haven't forgotten that, I imagine…?"

Ian shook his head.

"I know that."

Jack shook his head.

"The President of the United States doesn't make house calls…"

"I know that, Jack. I just-"

"Especially when his daughter in law has just been admitted into the hospital with what is almost definitely labor pains."

"Gina's in the hospital?"

Jack nodded, coming down the ramp, now. He wasn't annoyed about having to come to Ian; the gateship made the flight from DC in about ten minutes so it wasn't like he was going to be away from home all that long – and he knew it was a lot easier for him to come to Ian than for Ian to fly to him.

"About an hour ago. It's all very normal, from what I've been told."

"I'm sorry, Jack," he said, contritely. "I didn't-"

"They won't let me see her right now, anyways, and I'd just be in the way." He walked over to Ian and shook his hand. "Besides, Sam's there. What do you have for me?"

"What have you heard about where I've been?"

The President held up a file folder with an SGC logo on it – clearly a briefing paper. It was slightly chewed up on the corner, but in one piece.

"I've been briefed, but I want to know what _you_ know."

"Let's go inside," Ian suggested. "General Hunt's waiting."

Jack nodded and gestured for the Secret Service guys to lead the way, while Ian fell in step beside him, with Murray trotting beside him, trying to get hold of his hand to chew on his fingers in greeting.

"Where's Chelani?"

"You mean _Jim_?"

Jack's eyes were amused.

"Yeah."

"He's at the hospital. Just in case."

The Ancient could heal, after all, and if something happened with Gina, Jack was more than willing to put that ability as close to his daughter in law and grandchild as possible.

"Ah."

OOOOOOOOOOO

Supplies were already arriving from the SGC. Mostly the barest staples; food, medical supplies and warm clothing and extra blankets, but there were also more personnel arriving to take care of those who needed medical attention that _Cassandra_ couldn't provide, or the minor injuries that needed attention but not so desperately that the person had to be beamed up to their infirmary.

Andrew was in charge of it, and in constant contact with _Cassandra's_ supply officer, who was responsible for beaming the supplies to whichever village they were intended for. From there, more SGC personnel were distributing it, doing all that they could to help the people get their lives back in order as quickly and painlessly as possible.

When the stargate activated, he turned to see what supplies were coming through, and was surprised to see Ian emerge from the event horizon.

"That didn't take long."

Ian smiled.

"Gina's in labor. Jack didn't want to be in Colorado long."

Andrew's smile was broad.

"Really?"

Ian nodded.

"You're excused as of now. Tell Shawn and Gina I said congratulations."

"You're sure?"

Andrew didn't want to leave Ian and the villagers in a lurch if he was needed, but he definitely wanted to leave.

Ian nodded again.

"Turn your duties over to someone who's competent enough to handle them and then dial home. Jack's waiting to go back until you're there to join him."

Andrew smiled again.

"Thanks."

Ian shrugged.

"The Godfather should be there when the baby's born."

Which only made Andrew smile more.


	40. 40

Despite the fact that several of the men in various villages in the planet were grievously injured, no more people died. The three who were most critical were handed over to Ian who healed the part of their injuries that were life threatening, and then were handed over to the very capable medics who arrived from the SGC to take over for Cassandra's medics. Those who were sick were given medicines and warmth that had been denied them too long, and those who simply needed a chance to rest were put to bed under warm blankets and warming packs. The people from the SGC guarded their villages and the Stargate, and overhead where they couldn't see her but were assured she was there; the Cassandra guarded them from anyone who might try anything retaliatory.

The villagers – mostly women and children – helped as much as they could to settle their people. These were sturdy people who had taken the worst another race could throw at them, and while they hadn't been able to defeat the foe on their own, they were definitely bouncing back with a resilience that impressed and humbled those who were guarding and aiding them.

"Are you sure you must leave?" Sabrina asked Ian two mornings after the last of the Corain had vacated the planet. She had placed herself in charge of making sure he'd been eating well and getting enough rest, and while it annoyed him just a bit to be nagged, he knew that it was probably a way of coping with the loss of her husband so he didn't snipe when he really felt like doing just that.

He nodded, his hand resting lightly on Ian's scrawny shoulder. The boy had slept like a log for almost a full day, and had then put himself to work assisting with whatever he could help with in the rebuilding of their village. Several carpenters had been brought in with lumber and tools and many small houses were already standing where burned out hulks had once been, but these would need finishing touches that the villagers themselves would want to do; things that would make them into homes and not just shelters.

"I have to take care of a couple of things that I can't do from here."

"Like what?" his namesake asked, curiously.

Despite all the work he'd been doing, the boy had also managed to follow Ian around like a puppy. Which was enough to make him miss Carter and Michael more and more every passing hour.

"Things to make sure nothing like this ever happens again."

Sabrina paled slightly.

"What if they come back?"

It was a question that several of the villagers – from every village – had asked many times. All the SGC personnel had been instructed to give the same answer. The answer Ian himself had given with an assurance in his voice that made those who he spoke to believe him.

"They won't come back."

"Ever?" the boy asked.

"Ever."

"That's a hard promise to make," a voice said from behind Ian. He turned and saw Allen, leader of this particular village, limping over to them.

Ian nodded.

"But one I'm going to make sure I can keep. Which is why I have to leave, so I can go take care of it."

"Is there anything we can do?"

Allen had lost his wife and their two sons in the initial taking of his village. He himself would have been killed as swiftly as Joshua and many of the men, but as leader of the village, the High Commander had decided he'd be of more use to them alive than dead – although he'd suffered several beatings for refusing to cooperate.

"Just take care of your people," Ian told him. "Like you already have been."

Allen nodded. The leaders of the villages had gathered together only that morning to discuss with the SGC people whether or not they wanted to keep their stargate. They never used it, really, and it had been the path their enemy had taken to invade. Of course, it had also been the way help had been found, so there were definitely arguments for keeping it. Ian had solved it with a simple force field much like the one that guarded the SGC from attack – only this one would encompass the area that included the DHD. That way if someone – or some_ones _– arrived without an invitation, they'd be able to leave without having a chance to harm any of the indigenous folk. It was a permanent barrier unless you had an access code to get through it, and the only ones that did were the leaders of the villages, and Ian himself. Even better, it was powered by the very stones that the Corain had tried to steal from the planet. A supply that would keep the barrier in place for several centuries before it was depleted.

"Will we see you again?" the boy asked.

"Probably," Ian told him, squeezing his shoulder gently. "If the Boomerang Principle holds true."

All three of the villagers frowned.

"What's the Boomerang Principle?" Sabrina asked, before the other two could.

Ian smiled.

"It's when the things in your life that you thought were behind you suddenly come up and hit you in the back of the head. And usually hard enough that you can't ignore it."

"Like when I found you?" the boy asked, smiling.

"Exactly like that, yes."

"Colonel Brooks?"

He touched the com unit in his ear, holding up his hand to tell the villagers that he was being interrupted.

"Go ahead."

"We're ready to deploy the satellites, sir."

"Excellent. Deploy them."

"Cassandra out."

He turned back to the three.

"That's my cue."

Which meant absolutely nothing to them, although they understood that he was getting ready to leave.

"We can't thank you enough…" Sabrina said.

Another thing that had been said to him over and over. But Ian felt guilty that he hadn't arrived in time to save Joshua and the others, so he didn't like being thanked. It made him uncomfortable.

He nodded, accepted a hug from the boy and a handshake from Allen, and then signaled to Cassandra that he was ready to be transported over to the gate. He had things to take care of now that the satellites were going to be deployed.

And a very nasty surprise in store for the next group of would be conquerors.


	41. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

The house wasn't a large one. Situated just outside Baltimore, it was in a quiet neighborhood that boasted large green yards with a lot of trees and landscaping and with smaller houses that many times had decks that circled the entire structure and were actually more square footage than the houses themselves. Which was a good thing, in this case, because there was quite a party going on – and there were a lot of people in attendance.

Outside on the deck in the back of the house there was a large Bar-B-Q that was loaded down with steaks, hotdogs and hamburgers. Presiding over the food with a spatula in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other and clearly enjoying himself was George Hammond. Once CO of the SGC and more recently President of the United States, he was now fully retired from both and enjoying the fact that he was no longer so much in the public eye. At the moment, he had several hungry kids and dogs watching his every move, including his own great granddaughter and the current President's daughter, who was hopping around excitedly while still being very careful not to burn herself on the occasional popping grease from the grill and playing tag with Carter and Michael Brooks.

The perimeter of the house – and the grounds – were carefully patrolled by secret service agents which told the observant that Hammond wasn't the only high-level politician in the area. Which was exactly the case, since inside the house the President and Vice President were both cooing over the newest addition to the family and arguing over who got to hold her.

"You've had her all _week_, Jack," Nathan told him, trying to be as reasonable as possible.

"_I_ had to share her with _Sam_."

And everyone _else_ in the world, it had seemed.

"It's been a week. Let her have a chance at someone who doesn't smell funny."

"Sam?" Jack turned from his first grandchild to find Sam. "Nate just said you stink."

"Not her, _you_." Nathan held his hands out to the infant, who looked at him with brown eyes that clearly marked her as Shawn's little girl. "Come on, let me hold her."

Jack rolled his eyes and handed the baby over.

"Don't drop her."

Nathan didn't reply; instead turning his attention on the baby in his arms.

"He's nuts about little ones," Maggie said, softly, to Sam and Gina, who were standing at the edge of the kitchen watching Cassie teach Jim how to make an apple pie. The Ancient had expressed an interest in cooking, and had been nagging (politely) everyone he could for lessons.

"Why didn't you guys have more than one kid?" Gina asked, curiously. Even she could see that Nathan was enjoying himself.

"Because Ian was a handful," Maggie admitted. "Constantly into things and dropping things on his head trying to get to things he wasn't supposed to be touching."

As if mentioning his name had been a trigger, Jacob O'Neill looked up from the hand held video game he'd been playing. He looked over at the door that led to the back yard.

"Uncle Ian's here."

No one questioned him. They all knew that Jake knew when Ian was around him. It was something that was unique to just the two of them – because of the bond they'd shared when Jake had been born – and had only strengthened rather than faded as Jake grew older.

Sure enough, the door opened and Ian walked into the kitchen, a twin in each arm and Murray excitedly nudging up against him. He liked Ian!

"You're three days late, Colonel," Jack told him, getting up and walking into the kitchen. He pulled Carter from his father's arms and held the boy upside down for a minute, making him giggle as Murray tried to lick him. "We expected you here for the press conference."

Ian scowled, but lost the frown immediately when Michael giggled and squirmed to be let down. He ruffled his son's hair and told them both to take Murray outside before he managed to eat the pie Cassie was making. Or the pan.

"I was busy."

Cassie smiled, but held up her sticky hands to signify that she couldn't have a kiss just then.

"Don't listen to him, Ian. I told him you weren't going to be there. He must have forgotten."

"Well, he _is_ old…" Ian said, magnanimously.

Sam laughed and hugged him tightly in greeting.

"Want to meet the baby?"

"Of course."

Ian went over to the sofa where Nate was sitting and looked over his shoulder at the now sleeping child.

"Wow. Poor kid…"

Gina frowned, suddenly worried that Ian had seen – or sensed – something terribly wrong with her baby.

"What is it?"

"She looks just like Shawn. Poor kid."

Ian shook his head, mournfully.

"Just for that, _you_ have to change the next diaper."

Ian rolled his eyes in mock terror.

"Let me hold her, dad."

Now it was Nathan's turn to scowl.

"I just got her."

"C'mon."

"For Pete's sake…"

Nate gave up the infant, grudgingly, and Ian took her in his arms. She woke up immediately and looked up at him, owlishly.

"Dotty Jean Adams…" Ian smiled when she smiled at the sound of his voice – although he was pretty sure it was just gas. "_You're_ adorable."

OOOOOOOOOOOO

"High Commander, we're ready to drop out of hyperspace."

Moran turned from the readouts he'd been looking at and nodded.

"Drop us out."

He walked over and sat in the command chair that was in the middle of the bridge. The ship was huge and impressive – the flagship of the Corain nation. Bristling with weapons and shields, it was the lead vessel of a small armada that the Emperor had sent to chastise the people of the little planet who had dared rebel against the rule of the Corain. And had been responsible for the death of almost sixty men who had died in the last expedition. It would be a vicious attack, and the emperor had pretty much told Moran to kill anyone that gave any indication of rebellion.

"Exiting hyperspace… now."

The ship suddenly slowed, and the front viewscreen was opened to allow them to see the planet below them. It was spinning idly, its population completely unaware that they were in mortal peril. Moran leaned forward, eagerly, but managed to keep his voice calm.

"Any contacts on the proximity sensors?"

The man he'd asked shook his head.

"Only our own ships dropping out of hyperspace behind us."

They weren't taking any chances.

"High Commander! There are several small satellites in orbit around the planet that weren't there when we initially surveyed the planet. We-"

Before he could say anything else, Moran hissed with pain. It was almost as if someone had grabbed his head in a powerful grip and was squeezing him as hard as they could – just at the edge of intolerable.

_You are trespassing_… a voice said deep in the vaults of his mind. _Leave now and you will not be injured_.

He managed to open his eyes and saw that the rest of the crew were clearly being subjected to the same treatment, if the pained expressions they were wearing were any indication.

"Destroy the satellites!" Moran managed to spit out around the pain, which suddenly grew worse.

The ship's weapons came online, and managed to even power up, but before Moran could give the order to fire, one of the satellites beat him to it. A beam of energy that he saw only long enough to register that it was a faintly greenish color shot out of the satellite, directly towards the ship.

"Shields!"

It was destroyed before they had a chance to comply, and as the other ships in the armada soon found out, shields didn't do any good anyway. They all managed to get their shields up, but were all still destroyed without any effort at all. Within three minutes of dropping out of hyperspace the entire armada was gone, debris and emptiness all that remained.

OOOOOOOOOO

In the kitchen, Jim was putting the pie in the oven. Cassie had come to the living room and cuddled next to Ian, who had given the baby back to her mother, and Sam and Jack had joined them, waiting for Shawn and Andrew to return from the errands Gina had sent them on.

Ian suddenly froze, his head coming up and his expression growing distant, as if something was happening that only he could see – or feel.

Sam noticed immediately, as did Cassie. Both women frowned.

"Are you okay?" Cassie asked.

Maggie looked over with a mother's immediate concern, but before she could get worried, Ian shook his head and his expression cleared.

"What? Yeah. I'm fine." He grinned, hugging Cassie close and looking over at Jim, who had also been distracted – although no one had noticed. "Everything's fine."

And it'd _stay_ that way, too.

**The End!**


End file.
